


My Love Eternal

by doctornemesis



Category: One Piece
Genre: Adoption, Do-Over, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Love Triangles, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Rebirth, Self-Destruction, Sex, Single Parents, Soul Bond, Soulmates, True Love, Weddings, not mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 60,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornemesis/pseuds/doctornemesis
Summary: One evening, Marco receives a knock at his door. At first, he believes it to be one of the villagers now under both his care as well as his protection, but it's a lonely child instead. A boy who introduces himself as Portgas D. Ambrosio.After that night, nothing will ever be the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea rattling around in my brain for over a year now, and it finally came to fruition. I've got over 20,000 + words written already and will try to post at weekly intervals.

Marco settled in front of Ace and Pop’s graves just as he did every night, spilling the details of his day in the village to their respective headstones. Of course, a lot of it had been said before, but it was a habit he refused to break. The loneliness he felt resurfaced every time he was forced to turn away from them, to retire for the evening at his makeshift home with nothing but his thoughts and memories to keep him company until morning broke. 

His mind was a graveyard filled with nothing but ghosts. 

Marco missed Ace terribly that entire day, what would have been their fifth anniversary together passing over him, and so he drank. The locals were kind enough to supply him with their homemade issue of wine, bittersweet and highly intoxicating after only a cup or two. The phoenix drank it whenever he wished to forget, but he never did—not really. 

It could never quell the ache in his chest. 

During the dead of night, a knock came to Marco’s door, and though it wasn’t a common occurrence, the doctor figured it must have been an emergency of some sort, thus he set down his wine glass, wiped the tears from his eyes, and buttoned up his dress shirt as he moved to stand up. He ambled his way over to the door, and opened it to see a small figure tucked away in a ragged gray cloak. 

“Yes?” he asked, stepping aside to allow his young guest room to enter, and enter they did. 

“I was told to come here,” said a small voice, and it was almost too faint for Marco to hear. 

“Are you hurt, yoi?” he asked, lighting a second lamp in order to see better, but the child remained hidden under a pile of cloth. 

“I was lost,” they said.

“What’s your name?” Marco asked, unsettled a tad bit by the sudden intrusion. 

“Portgas D. Ambrosio,” he said, and Marco froze in place. 

“Did you say Portgas?” he asked, his heart stalling in his chest. He’d only ever known one person with that name.

“Yes.”

“Let me see your face,” Marco said, and he tried to keep the commanding tone out of his voice as not to startle the young soul.

The child removed the hooded cloak he wore to reveal a head full of dark curls, a face full of freckles, and eyes a tranquil, almost sleepy-like blue. Marco recognized his own eyes and lips mixed into the features of the child’s face, and fought a choked-off sob as a result. How could this be?

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” he asked, taken aback and slightly mystified as he moved closer to the boy who stood before him. The boy did not flinch or shrink back away from him, standing before him with the utmost determination, and Marco recognized multiple similarities between him and Ace. 

“I don’t know, I just am. The bird said that it was finally time to send me home...”

“The bird...?”

“Ambrosio, I am immortal. That’s what my name means,” the boy explained, his head tilted to one side just as Ace would do. “The thunder bird said it was time for me to go, that I was needed.”

“How old are you?”

“I am five years old.”

“Who are your parents?”

“Silly!” the boy exclaimed with a huff of laughter, a large smile splitting his face in two. “I’m the product of a soul bond.”

“...Soul bond?”

“Yes, and I’m home now with you,” he said, taking a seat on Marco’s bed that resided pushed into the corner against the far wall to the right.

The clothes he wore were plain, sheer and an off white in color, but intact, and that gave Marco some relief though he knew not why. Marco studied him, searching for any hint of deception or foul play, but found nothing to alarm him. The boy appeared curious about all of the medical books and journals stacked high into a neat pile on top of Marco’s nightstand.

“Let’s get your shoes off, yoi,” he said, sitting beside the young boy as he took his legs and placed them over his lap, helping to remove the gladiator-like sandals that resembled Marco’s own so closely. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m sleepy,” Ambrosio said, looking up at Marco with such an innocent, soft expression. 

All Marco could see was Ace. 

“Then let’s get some rest then,” he said, joining the other as they laid down. He made sure to wrap him up in a sky blue blanket Ace had left behind years prior, nearly swaddling the poor child in the process. 

Marco’s eyes refused to shut, intent to see if this was all a figment of his imagination or not, but as daylight broke overhead, the child remained snoring cuddled up beside him. His face remained tender and full in appearance, truly a child and not some other worldly being. Marco accepted that this child was heaven sent, but how painful it was to have a dream come true without Ace there to witness it. 

“Ambrosio,” he called, gently stirring the child awake. “I have to go soon, so we must get up.”

“Where do we have to go?” asked the small bundle beside him, and it caused Marco to smile sincerely for the first time in years. 

“I have to take care of the villagers, yoi,” he said, trying to explain it in the simplest terms possible. “I treat them so that they remain healthy and strong.” 

“How do you help them?” Ambrosio asked as he slowly sat up.

“I use my special abilities to help them,” Marco answered, delighting in Ambrosio’s awed expression as he wandered over to the small kitchenette, determined to make rice porridge for the both of them. 

Admittedly, Marco hadn’t kept up with any sort of healthy food habits in recent years, choosing a simple piece of bread and wine as his only meal of the day. However, he couldn’t do that with a child in his care. He needed to set an example of some sort. 

“What special ability do you have?” he asked, lacing his sandals back up as he stared at Marco for an answer. 

“I’m a sort of bird, too,” he said, partially transforming as Ambrosio gasped and nearly fell over. “My power allows me to take away other people's pain and heal them, yoi.” 

“That, that’s amazing! You’re an immortal bird, too!”

“I don’t know about that, but I am a phoenix, yes.”

“A phoenix?”

“I’ll explain along the way,” Marco said, pouring the porridge into two seperate bowls. “First, you need to eat, yoi.”

“Thank goodness! My stomach’s growling!”

Marco watched as Ambrosio shoveled his food into his mouth in much the same manner that Ace used to, and it made his heart swell with longing. Normally, Marco would start his day much like he ended it, at Ace and Pops’ graves, but time was of the essence, and Marco wanted to get some new clothes for the child suddenly thrust into his care. A kindly old woman by the name of Clover made and sold various clothing for both youths as well as adults, she would have what he so sought.

“Ambrosio, we’re going to get you some new clothes, okay?” he explained, taking hold of the young child’s hand as they left his small home. 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Ambrosio asked, peering up at Marco with curious blue eyes. 

It was unsettling to see himself mixed in with the child’s soft, yet poignant expression. 

“Absolutely nothing, yoi, but you need more than one set of clothing,” he said, and he laughed slightly as Ambrosio began to swing their arms back and forth the further they walked. “You’ll probably want a toy or two as well, I imagine.”

“Toy?”

Marco’s brows furrowed at that, trying to understand what Ambrosio knew and didn’t know, trying to fathom where he could have possibly come from. A frustrating endeavor, that. The boy had appeared as though from thin air, and Marco didn’t know where to begin, though food and clothing seemed like the best start. 

“Something for you to play with, like a ball or a stick that you can throw or swing.”

“Oh, okay,” Ambrosio said, but Marco could see the furrowing of his dark brows, his expression complex and confused. 

“I’ll show you, don’t worry, yoi.”

The child looked up at him then, a large smile plastered across his face. “Okay!” he exclaimed, jumping up and down as they carried along the dirt pathed road. “As long as I’m with you, everything will be fine!”

“As long as you’re with me, huh?”

“Yup!” 

Marco hummed lowly to himself at that, curious as to what it meant, but he couldn’t find it in himself to vocalize those concerns. Ambrosio might not understand it himself, he realized the further they walked and the more questions the young boy shot his way. Ambrosio spoke well enough, knew the basics such as clothes, food and sleep, but appeared curious and even frustrated by the things they happened upon along the way. The poor child even screamed bloodymurder and hid behind Marco’s person when a dog who got away from their own had rushed over to greet them.

“It’s okay, Ambrosio,” he said, giving his hand a tight squeeze. “It’s just Moxie.”

“Moxie?”

“Yes, she’s a good girl,” he said, crouching down to pet the hyper active, but overall friendly Pomeranian-mix as Ambrosio watched the display from over Marco’s shoulder. “Where’s your owner, hm?”

“Oh, Marco! I’m terribly sorry,” came Moxie’s owner, a young man with strawberry blonde hair by the name of Levi who worked at the local butcher’s shop with his father whom he apprenticed under. “She popped out of her collar somehow!”

“No worries,” Marco said with a gentle chuckle, scratching the small dog behind the ear as her tail wagged in excitement. “See, Ambrosio? When its tail’s wagging like that, it means it’s happy, yoi. Moxie’s very friendly, but a little mischievous, too.”

“Can, can I pet her?” he asked, his hands still bunched up in the material of Marco’s dress shirt as he continued to hide behind him. 

“Of course, yoi,” the blonde said. “I’m right here with you.”

“O-okay,” Ambrosio said, releasing his hold on Marco as moved to stand beside him. 

“Let her sniff your hand first, okay?

“Okay,” the boy said, doing as told. Moxie sniffed his hand, continuing to wag her tail. After a moment, Ambrosio pet her head with short, experimental movements, gasping when the light colored dog licked the palm of his hand. “She, she kissed me!” 

Both Marco and Levi let out a good laugh at that. “She likes you, yoi,” Marco said, ruffling the boy’s dark colored hair. “You made a new friend.”

“Friend?” Ambrosio asked, his expression soft. 

“A special person you like and who likes you, too,” Marco said, trying his best to get the message across. 

“A friend!”

“Is this your son, Marco?” Levi asked, green eyes peering down at the pair with a curious look about himself. “He looks a lot like you.”

Up until that point, Marco had forgotten about the man’s presence. 

He coughed into the back of his hand, clearing his throat a little. “Oh, yes,” he said, somewhat nervous, but there were no other titles that appropriately summed up Ambrosio’s relationship to him, and the truth...well, the truth was beyond even him. “This is my son, Ambrosio. He just arrived to the island last night.”

“Oh, wow! Nice to meet you, Ambrosio,” Levi said, waving at the small child who looked to Marco for reassurance. “Your father’s an amazing man! We wouldn’t know what to do without him.”

Ambrosio smiled at that. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “Father’s a bird who can heal people and take away their pain!”

Marco felt himself preen somewhat at hearing Ambrosio refer to him as his father out loud. It made him feel whole in a way he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. If he’d lost all sense of reality, he hoped to never regain it, content to spend the rest of his days in a delusional state if it meant he no longer suffered from such an extensive sense of loneliness. 

“Haha, that’s exactly right,” Levi said, fixing Moxie's collar as he did so, reinforcing it. “Well, I’ve got to get going if I don’t want to be late! Hope to see you around, Ambrosio!”

“Bye, friend!” Ambrosio said, waving as Levi and Moxie carried on in the opposite direction. “Father...”

“You don’t have to call me father, yoi,” Marco said as he rose to his feet. “That’s pretty formal. You can call me dad, or papa, or pops...”

“_ Dad_!”

Marco smiled, taking hold of Ambrosio’s offered hand as they once again continued on their way. “Dad it is, then,” he said, enjoying the warmth that blossomed in his chest. 

  
  


Clover, a short, friendly and plump woman welcomed them into her shop with open arms and a crooked smile. “Come, come,” she said, ushering them inside, away from the humidity of the day. “I haven’t seen you since my husband sprained his ankle last autumn.” 

“I’m terribly sorry, Clover-san, it has been a while,” Marco said in greeting. “As you can see, the white button up I got from you has held up well enough.”

“It has! But it’s about time you added more pieces to your collection, young man,” she said with a laugh. 

“Actually, I’m here for my son today,” he said, his face warming once again at the thought. “He needs a couple pairs of clothes.”

“Son?!” she exclaimed, trying to look behind the blonde to see where said son hid, holding onto the back of his pant legs. “What’s his name?”

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to a good friend of mine, yoi?” Marco asked, peering down at the boy with full cheeks and distinguished, almost hypnotic blue eyes. 

Reluctantly, the child stepped out from behind Marco, holding his hand as he looked up at the elderly woman with a sense of bashfulness about him. “I’m Portgas D. Ambrosio, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, his voice low, but audible to both sets of ears. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Ambrosio. Your mother must be a beautiful woman.”

Ambrosio frowned at that. “I don’t have a mother,” he said, and Clover appeared quite taken aback by his admission. 

“Oh, dear,” she said. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“No need to be sorry,” Ambrosio said. “I was born from the heart, not the womb.”

“Yes, yes,” Marco said, trying to reign in the conversation. It was better for Clover to think Ambrosio’s “mother” had passed on long enough for the child not to remember her than to think Marco had somehow kidnapped the poor kid. “Come now, Ambrosio, you need to pick some clothes for yourself.”

“Of course, come this way,” Clover said, moving further into the shop to the children’s section, as small as it may seem. “I’ll show you everything we have in stock.”

“Thank you, Clover-san.”

“What should I get?” Ambrosio asked, big blue eyes looking up to Marco for an answer. 

Marco sighed, ruffling the boy’s hair as he was want to do. “Whatever you want, yoi,” he said, waving a hand. “Pick whatever it is that catches your eye.”

“I don’t know what I like.”

“What about the colors I’m wearing?” Marco asked, pointing at each individual article of clothing as Ambrosio studied them with a critical eye. For such a small child, his gaze was certainly intense. 

“I like this one,” Ambrosio said, pointing to a wooden bracelet with red flames painted on it that Marco had gotten a few months after Ace’s death. 

“You like red, yoi,” he said, keeping his voice even though he felt anything but. It made him want to cry with how much Ace and Ambrosio were alike. 

“Red? Yes!” the boy exclaimed, ecstatic about his selection. 

“A passionate young one, hmm, dear?” Clover said with a short huff of laughter. 

“He’s got a lot of spirit, that’s for sure,” Marco said, smiling so hard that it nearly split his mouth in two. “Do you have any articles in red his size, Clover-san?”

“I have a few, let me rummage around a bit,” she said, shuffling through racks and racks of children's clothing. “This would be easier if my youngest son organized them properly!”

Marco chuckled at that, offering the woman an outstretching of his hand to reach above. Eventually, Marco found a red tank top with Kanji meaning “violence” written on it that Ambrosio fell in love with instantly. It worried him, knowing Ace’s past, but he determined that no harm would come to him, even if it cost his own life. He couldn’t help but to choose black cargo shorts to see how they fit. If only Ace could see him now. 

“I like them, too! They're not too small or big!” Ambrosio exclaimed, but appeared to be searching elsewhere, tearing the shop high and low. 

“What is it you’re looking for, Ambrosio-kun?” Clover asked, watching the boy struggle. 

“I want a sash like dad wears!

Marco grin at that, old memories flooding back as he watched Clover and Ambrosio search for the perfect piece. The blonde, on the other hand, sought for a short sleeve black button up. He tried not to think too much about Ace as he did so, but it was perfect.

“Look at the sash, daddy!” he exclaimed, showing off an orange sash that wrapped around his waist adorned with gold thread and matching golden coins at the end. 

“It’s an excellent look on you, Ambrosio.” 

“ Thanks!” 

“How much do I owe you, Clover-san?”

“For you? Nothing,” Clover said, taking the blonde off kilter. 

“I owe you something, yoi.”

“No, not day,” she said. “You much do too much already. The least we can do is help out when we can.”

“I’ll repay you in earnest.” 

The woman’s eyes crinkled with warmth. “You repay us all the time, Marco. You're always at our beck and call, just like Whitebeard himself,” she said. 

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, Clover-san.”

The elderly woman merely smiled at him, her dark eyes sparkling. “You do too much, dear,” she said. “Just let me know if they're too large or too small.”

“Will do,” Marco said, grabbing a hold of Ambrosio’s hand as he took the bag in the other. “We’ll be back, don’t worry.”

“Everyone seems to really like you, dad. You’re pretty popular, huh?” Ambrosio said as they left the seamstress’ shop with a couple of bags in tow.

“It doesn’t hurt that you’re adorable, too,” Marco said, grinning from ear-to-ear as Ambrosio shrugged his shoulders, his cheeks tinged pink. 

“How come she thought I had a mother? The souls that entwined were yours and my papa’s.”

“Well,” Marco began, his thoughts tumbling around inside his mind. “Most children are born from a mother and father,” he said. 

“My other father...where is he?””

Marco eyes welled up at that. “I’ll show you later tonight, how about that?”

“Oh, yeah! I haven’t seen him since we were forced apart.”

Marco came to a full stop right then and there in the middle of town, staring down at Ambrosio who met his gaze head-on. The child refused to back down from anyone or anything. He had the tenacity and brashness of Ace himself. 

“You...met your father?”

The boy hummed to himself before finding the right words to say. “We were both forged from the large thunder bird! I eventually cooled down, but Ace was...papa was still burning bright.”

Marco looked to Amrosio then, studying him as if in a stalemate. “Ace, you said?” he asked. “You’re...you’re sure, yoi?” 

“Yes! He kept me company and loved me and promised that he’d be back for us!”

“Why were you sent down, yoi? Why you and not the both of you?”

Ambrosio frowned then, and then his bottom lip began to tremble. “Because papa was so sad that the bird cooled me down to an ember, and Ace said to make you happy again! To be a real pain in your ass, but those were his words, not mine,” he said. 

Marco could no longer hold back as his eyes welled with tears and his heart swelled with pride as he picked Ambrosio up, embracing the boy with everything he had in him, and then some. “You’re mine, my son. You’re Ace’s...you’re really our son,” he said, laughing as Ambrosio wiped away his tears. 

“I’m sorry it took so long.” 

Marco didn’t know what to say to that, and so he said nothing, guiding Ambrosio to his so-called office where a group of people, young and old alike, were already gathered. Marco held his head high, Ambrosio’s hand gripping his tighter as they grew closer to their destination. 

“Where have you been, mister? It’s unusual for you to be late,” Luna asked, hand placed on her hip to keep the pain from radiating to her right side. The arthritis must have been acting up on that side again, Marco mused, mentally taking notes as he greeted everyone. 

“I’m terribly sorry, Luna. I had a bit of an incident this morning,” he said, giving a slight bow as he fixed his glasses. 

“Who’s the kid?” Elek, a young man with a sprained wrist from shoveling hay day in and day out, asked. 

“This is my son, Ambrosio,” Marco said, and the more he did so the more it felt right. 

“Son?!” Agatha exclaimed, stepping closer to the boy who held onto Marco’s hand for dear life. “I didn’t know you had a son, Marco-san!”

Marco gave a sheepish grin at that, though it felt forced. Gossip was never his forte. “Yes, he’s five years old and arrived to Sphinx last night. He’ll be staying with me from now on,” he said. “Now, who’s first in line?”

“Come on, Cybill, you know you broke your ankle trying to move some of those old ruins by the shore,” Cristobal said, carrying his petite little sister in his broad arms. 

“I told you it would heal on its own!” she argued, face red with both anger as well as embarrassment. 

“May I just take a look at it, Cybill-chan?”

The young girls face turned just as bright as her red and white polka dotted dress, but she reluctantly gave her leg over to Marco, watching with curiosity as the phoenix studied the break in depth. Ambrosio grinned as wide as he could, watching with delight as blue flames erupted from his father’s fingertips. The young girl swooned in her brother’s arms, taking a deep breath as relief flooded through her system in an instant, grateful beyond compare. 

“There,” Marco said. “All better. Just take it easy for a while, okay?”

“Okay,” she murmured, throwing her arms around her big brother’s neck. 

“Thank you, Marco,” Cristobal said, his smile almost as bright as the sun itself. 

“Happy to help.” 

The day carried on in much the same way, and Ambrosio watched with rapt fascination as Marco greeted everyone with a gentle smile, and an even gentler touch. Honeydew, a young mother with a four year old daughter, approached Marco with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. A hiss passed through rose petal lips as she set her daughter, Clementine, down.

“Your son is so precious, Marco,” she greeted, running her fingers through Clementine’s wild blonde curls, her hair resembling her mother’s quite well. “Will he be attending the school?”

“With you as his teacher? Of course, Honeydew,” Marco said, a deep frown settling over his face the more he watched the woman and her slow, sharp movements. “What brings you here?”

Honeydew’s amber gaze didn’t quite meet his, and Marco’s weariness only grew the longer he studied her. “Well, I had quite an accident,” she said with a mirthless little laugh, handing Clementine a small bear she’d sewn herself.

“Did this accident occur in front of your husband again, Honeydew?” he asked, voice low as he watched Clementine greet Ambrosio with a large grin, her front two teeth missing. 

Ambrosio and Clementine began to talk and play, and while Marco would have been more than content to see the boy making new friends his age, he couldn’t turn his attention away from the young girl’s mother. “I think a few of my ribs are broken,” she said, at last. 

“What did he do?”

“I forgot to set out his clothes last night,” she said, eyes welling up with tears, “and Clementine was being so loud that he couldn't rest...”

“What did he do to you, Honeydew?”

The woman wrapped her arms around herself then, the white dress with sunflowers printed on it much too large on such a frail looking frame. She’d always been slender as long as Marco had known her, but it was much more pronounced now than it had been before. The realization troubled him. 

“Claude, he pushed me,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. “I fell down, and he started to kick me.” 

“You know that you and Clementine are always welcomed to stay with me,” he said, placing a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder as she fought not to flinch under his touch. “You can’t keep living like this. He’s going to kill you, and then what will happen to Clementine, yoi?”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” she argued. “He would just keep coming after me, and if I left...he’d really try and kill me, Marco.” 

“You know everyone here would protect you, yoi, but they can’t help you if you don’t say anything,” Marco said. “You can’t keep coming to me to heal the damage he’s caused. I can heal your body to an extent, but I can’t heal your mind.” 

“I know, and I’m so sorry for causing you so much trouble, Marco,” she said, her bottom lip trembling. “I just don’t know what else to do. I wish I wasn’t so weak.”

“You’re not weak,” Marco said, placing his hands along her protruding ribs, noticing three cracks on one side and at least two breaks on the other. He healed them, peering down at the petite woman as he did so. “When will your sister be back?”

“The last letter I got said she’d be back in a week or so,” Honeydew said. “She’s got her own family to worry about now that Lawrence passed awat, though. I don’t want to make her sick with worry over me as well.”

“You are her family, yoi,” he said, trying to reason with her, though he knew that any decision on Honeydew’s part would have to come from her. “Mirabelle would be devastated if something were to happen to you, never knowing how much trouble you were in.”

The two talked for a while longer, but then Honeydew announced that she needed to get back home in order to get dinner started. “If you’d like, I can bring you the paperwork for Ambrosio’s schooling sometime tomorrow,” she said, a genuine smile graced her lips as she picked Clementine up with relative ease and little to no pain now. “I’ve got a couple of bears I made for the children at home, too. I can bring him one.”

“I’d love that, thank you,” he said. “I’m trying to adjust, yoi. This arrangement was...very sudden.”

“You’ll never be prepared for everything,” she said, placing a kiss to her daughter’s high forehead, “but I promise, they’re worth it.” 

“Bye bye, Mr. Marco!” Clementine cried. “Bye bye, Ambrosio!”

“Bye, Clementine-chan!” Marco exclaimed, picking Ambrosio up as he waved after the girl until they could no longer see each other. 

“I like her a lot!” Ambrosio exclaimed, placing his hands on either side of Marco’s face as he squished his cheeks together, causing the man to erupt into a fit of laughter. “She said that her mom’ll teach me how to read and write!” 

“Oh, yes,” Marco said as the two carried on home. “Honeydew is very smart, and very sweet. You’ll learn a lot under her care, but how about I teach you how to write your name tonight?”

“Really?!”

“Yes, really,” Marco said, weary from the talk he’d shared with the woman, “and then I’ll teach you how to write my name and Ace’s name, too.”

“Yeah!”

“After you eat and brush your teeth and we get you a bath.”

“Food sounds good, but the rest sounds terrible.”

“Can’t go to school if you stink.”

  
“I smell like kid! It’s _ you _who stinks!”


	2. Chapter 2

A month passed in rapid succession. Marco found that there was a lot to do when caring for a young child, but he took it in stride, one new challenge at a time. Ambrosio started school within the first week or so, and he began making friends sooner rather than later, although Clementine remained his most cherished one of them all. 

The two were a lot alike, Marco realized, and he often spent the late afternoon hours with the both of them in his care. Clementine’s father couldn’t be bothered to pick the girl up while Honeydew readied the small classroom for the next day’s lesson, and so Marco took the vivacious young girl under his wing—sometimes literally—much to her mother’s relief. A chronic alcoholic like Claude should never be left alone with anyone, let alone a four year old. 

Or, four and a half, as Clementine liked to remind him. 

“Her behavior’s been improving so much since you’ve started watching her after school,” Honeydew said, taking a sip of tea Marco had prepared prior to her arrival. 

“Honestly, all I do is make them do their homework after getting them a bite to eat, and then they spend most of the time playing dinosaurs when they’re not trying to hit each other with sticks.”

Honeydew chuckled at that. “She’s obsessed with velociraptors,” she said, and Marco could only laugh, too. 

“Ambrosio’s determined that he’s a fire breathing dragon at the moment,” he said with a lazy shrug. 

“Kids, I swear,” she said, and Marco was glad to note that she’d put on some weight within the last month or so. “You’re handling this very well considering where you were at in the beginning.”

Marco smiled at that. “I’m trying,” he said, and honestly, it was all he could do. 

“The addition you added looks perfect,” she said. “I’m sure Ambrosio appreciates the space. 

“Flint and Daffodil did an amazing job, yoi,” he noted, taking a bite of toast he’s smothered in strawberry jam. “Ambrosio’s toys were beginning to take up the whole house.”

“That’s how I feel about Clementine’s rock collection,” Honeydew said, peering down at the leather watch on her wrist before giving a low sigh. “Well, it looks like it’s time for me to go. Thank you for the tea, Marco.”

“Not a problem,” he said, walking her to the door as she called for Clementine to get a move on. “Are things better at home?”

“They’re getting there, if that makes sense,” she said, patting the top of Clementine’s head as the girl hurried to put on her sandals. “Well, _ I’m _getting there. I finally talked to my sister about it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Marco said with a genuine smile. “I’m sure Mirabelle’s more than willing to help.”

“You know her,” Honeydew said with a short snort. “If she’s not off exploring the world, she’s home causing chaos.”

“Once a pirate, always a pirate.”

“You would know, Marco,” she said, grinning from ear-to-ear. “You were one of the best.”

Marco studied the hibiscus flowers Honeydew left behind for him, their red and blue hues much appeasing to his mind’s eye. The passion of the reds, and the freedom of the blues made him think of Ace, and so he and Ambrosio made it a habit to set the bouquet on their loved one’s grave. That late afternoon proved no different, though Marco’s visits grew less and less frequent now that he had someone alive and breathing depending on him. 

“We’re going to visit papa and gramps?” Ambrosio asked, lacing up his sandals as he did so.

Marco ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yeah, your papa needs some new flowers by now, don’t you think?” he asked. 

“Yup!” Ambrosio exclaimed, forgoing an overshirt in favor of running wild in a white tee with red print that read, “Furry” on the front. Clover had set it aside just for him. 

“Dad, you’re moving too slow!” he exclaimed the closer to their gravesites they got. “You’ve got to race the sun or else it wins!”

“Let an old man enjoy a leisurely stroll, will you?” he said with a flapping of his hand. “I worked hard today.”

“You work hard everyday!”

“I worked even harder today.”

“Hawke said that his grandmother died today, that true?” Ambrosio asked, those deep blue eyes staring up at Marco with a serene expression. He could go from childish innocence to an old soul in a matter of seconds. It could be unnerving. 

While it was true that the child was still learning much about this world and life in general, death happened to be something he knew intimately well, much to Marco’s dismay. 

“Yes,” he said. “It was her time.”

Ambrosio hummed at that before turning his attention back to Ace’s grave, placing the bouquet besides Ace’s trademark dagger. A replica of it, anyway. Marco had found the original after Ace’s death, but he kept that in a wooden chest underneath his bed. 

“Hi, papa!” Ambrosio greeted, placing a hand over Ace’s engraved name. “I did a lot today, you have no idea! I wrote my first letter with Honeydew-sensei's help! I wrote to Clementine about what we should do over break!”

Marco stood back as Ambrosio talked, mindful of just how much the child longed for Ace’s company. Of course, the phoenix understood that pain all too well. Thatch, Ace and Pops. He wanted their advice, more than anything. Thatch to provide him with tried and true recipes that were both healthy and tasty to a five year old’s palate, Ace to teach him how to be a better playmate to their son, and Pops for all the fatherly advice that Marco never thought he would ever need. 

Honeydew and the others in the village helped him a great deal, but nothing could compare to family. He’d written a letter to Izo, asking his brother to visit when he got the chance, but he’d neglected to tell him about Ambrosio. Marco figured that would best be explained in person. He didn’t want Izo thinking he’d gone and lost his mind until he actually met the boy for himself. One by one, he would introduce Ambrosio to all of his uncles.

Luffy and Sabo, too. Somehow, some way.

“When are you going to come back home, papa? Dad and I miss you _ so _much! I miss the bedtime stories you used to tell me. Dad’s are all scary!”

“Telling on me already, yoi?”

“Yep!” Ambrosio happily quipped. “I just wish that papa would say something back...”

Marco sighed, scooping the child up into his arms. “You just have to give it time, Ambrosio,” he said, and there was nothing more devastating than seeing his son’s wavering faith right before his eyes. 

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck as he gave him a tight squeeze. “I just wish he’d come home soon.” 

“Me, too,” he said. “Maybe we need to yell at him a little bit, hm?”

Ambrosio laughed at that. “Yeah!” he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger back at Ace’s headstone. “You need to hurry up, mister! We need you!”

“You tell him, yoi.”

That night, Marco put Ambrosio to bed with a story about Germa Double-Six. He explained that where he hailed from in North Blue had been ravaged by their military might, tales of their exploits spreading near and far. He told him about '_Sora, Warrior of the Sea’_, mixing truth with fiction as he went along. 

“Well, it’s not a scary story, but it’s close,” Ambrosio said, rubbing his tired eyes with both his hands. “You could kick their ass.”

Marco chuckled at that, pulling Ace’s old blanket up as he tucked it high under the boy’s chin, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “With your help, of course I could,” he said. “Now, get some rest, you have school tomorrow, yoi.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go ahead and post three chapters today as my birthday's coming up soon, and I don't know what my schedule's going to look like next week or the week after. So, this is just in case. If anything, I'll probably find the time to post then, too. Haha.

One day, after Marco picked Ambrosio and Clementine up in his usual fashion, he noticed that Honeydew appeared much more chipper than usual. She gave Clementine a big kiss and hug, promising to pick her up before dinner time. She waved them off, and promised to bring Marco his usual bouquet of flowers. 

Dinner time came and went, and yet, there was no sign of Honeydew anywhere. 

“Mr. Marco, do you know what’s taking my mommy so long? It’s getting dark outside,” Clementine said, her large hazel-green eyes staring up at him as she twisted the hem of her periwinkle dress in between shaking fingers. 

Marco sighed, moving to his feet as he picked the young girl up. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take you down the street to Clover-san’s so I can go look for her, okay?” he said, and the girl nodded her head in brief understanding. 

“Okay.”

“Come on, Ambrosio! We’re going to go down the street for a bit.”

“Coming!”

  
  


Jade, Clover’s youngest son, answered the door, his dark eyes sparkling just like his mother’s did. “Marco-san, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“Is your mother home?”

“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen, give me one sec, and I’ll go get her.”

“Thank you.”

“Marco! To what do I owe the pleasure?” she greeted, ushering them all inside. 

“I hate to ask, but do you think you could watch Ambrosio and Clementine for a bit? Honeydew was supposed to pick her up a while ago, but we haven’t seen her,” Marco said, trying to keep his voice leveled as not to scare the children. “I’m going to head back to the school to see if she’s still there, yoi.”

“Of course,” Clover said, taking the girl from him without a moment's hesitation. “I heard that Mirabelle was expecting them at her place later tonight. You might want to try and check in with her.”

“I will, thank you,” he said, peering down at Ambrosio who looked terribly concerned for someone his age. “Ambrosio, you look after Clementine until I get back, okay?”

“Okay, dad,” he said, the sparse freckles across his cheeks shimmering in the fading light. “Be safe.”

“Would you like me to come with, Marco?”

“No, that’s alright,” Marco said, smiling at the teen. “I shouldn’t be long. If you could help your mother look after these two, I’d appreciate it. They can be a handful.”

And, with that, Marco took off without another word or glance, determined to locate Honeydew at all cost. He prayed that something had come up at the school, but the sinking feeling in his gut spoke otherwise. Mirabelle’s house was on the way, and so he kept an eye out for the other woman as well.

If Honeydew had decided to leave Claude, it made sense that she would gather up their belongings and move in with her sister. The same sister she had finally talked to after months of hiding the ever escalating levels of abuse she’d been suffering at the hands of her husband. He couldn’t imagine that Claude would do anything with Honeydew’s hot tempered, trigger-happy sister in town. Mirabelle proved to be fiercely protective of her family, and that protectiveness only tripled when it came to her shy younger sister. The only blood relation she had left besides her two sons and young niece. 

Marco passed her house, but didn’t see or hear anything that would allow him to know that she was home. He moved a little faster when he spotted a petite figure in a familiar red leather jacket walking a ways ahead of him. He whistled as loud as he could, using his wings to fly the short distance in order to catch up. 

“Marco! Have you seen Honeydew?” Mirabelle asked, her hands balled up into tight fists. 

“No, she didn’t come to pick up Clementine so I decided to go look for her, yoi,” he said, moving to walk side by side with her. 

“_ Shit_!” she spat as they hurried towards the school. A small, one-story building situated at the base of a large mountain. 

A field with domesticated sphinxes roamed to their right, a large river cutting through it for the massive animals to drink from. A small group of them were making distressed noises, and when they spotted the two humans, one took off towards the school. Marco and Mirabelle chased after it, deep into the forest behind the brightly colored building. 

Marco noticed a small bouquet of hibiscus flowers strewn across the ground, and knew that they belonged to Honeydew. “She’s got to be close, yoi,” he said, focusing on a loud rustling sound coming from their left up ahead a few feet. 

“_Honeydew_!” Mirabelle shouted, rushing over to where her sister must have been hiding out of sight. 

Honeydew laid bleeding, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Marco knew she was moments away from death, stab wounds littering her lithe body. He crouched down beside her, his hands igniting with large, intense blue flames. 

“Claude,” she rasped, choking on her own blood.

“That son of a bitch!” Mirabelle snarled as she jumped to her feet. “You take care of her, I’m going after him!”

“_Clementine_,” she groaned, blood pouring forth from her nose and mouth. “He’s _ after _Clementine.” 

“He’s heading for my house!” Marco shouted as Mirabelle took off. “It’s okay, Honeydew. You’re okay, and so is Clementine. I left her and Ambrosio with Clover-san.”

“Good,” she said, coughing up more blood. “Good, they’re safe.”

“Just focus on me, okay? You’re not going to die here. I promise, yoi.”

Honeydew smiled weakly at that, blood staining her teeth, her dark skin mottled with dried blood. “I’m not afraid of him anymore. He’s got no control over me,” she rasped, wheezing. 

Marco focused everything he had into healing her, pulling her back from the brink of death. In the process, it weakened him immensely, almost to the point of no return, but he need not worry as two sets of feet approached them at a rapid pace. He felt dizzy and faint sitting there beside her, but he held on anyway. 

“Marco!” Levi called, coming to stand beside them. His father, Oliver, too. “Mirabelle told us what happened! We got here as fast as we could!”

“I healed her, but I can’t walk like this,” he said, hand clutching the side of his head as his vision blurred. “Claude...”

“Mirabelle shot him dead, son,” Oliver said, voice gruff as he hoisted Marco up and onto his feet. A brawny man with salt and pepper colored hair with a mustache to match. 

“I’ve got Honeydew,” Levi said. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you both back to Mirabelle’s house.”

  
  


Marco nodded his head in understanding before he passed out, the world going black around him. He’d never healed someone like that before, but he didn’t regret it. A few hours passed before he next came to, the sun gone with only a crescent moon and sparse stars in its place. 

He didn’t know where he was, and his first instinct was to go and find Ambrosio to make sure he was safe and sound. 

“Careful, Marco. You’ve used up a lot of your strength,” Quill, one of Mirabelle’s twin sons, said.

“Honeydew?”

“Auntie’s resting up in the next room,” he said, the scar under his right eye looking especially deep with the lack of bright light. His dark hair parted to one side. 

He looked more like his father, but his soft amber colored eyes spoke highly of both Mirabelle and Honeydew.

“Clementine and Ambrosio?”

“Mom thought it would be better if they spent the night with Clover. She didn’t want them to see you guys like this.” 

Marco sighed, relieved that both of them were safe. He remembered old Oliver saying something about Claude.”What happened to...?” he asked, unable to finish the thought, his stomach lurching.

“Mom shot him twice in the chest,” Quill said, his eyes darkening. “The other’s threw him into the ocean, said he didn’t deserve a proper burial. The bastard.”

Marco sighed again, relieved that the man could no longer harm anyone. “Good,” he said, his words muttered together as exhaustion finally took him over. 

“Get some rest,” Quill said, patting Marco’s thigh. “We’ll be here in the morning.”

Marco liked Quill, he did. A good man, and an even better pirate just like his parents before him. Quill liked him, too.

A lot.

Enough to kiss him about a year back, but Marco couldn’t bring himself to make anything of it. He felt like he’d been unfaithful to Ace, unfaithful to a dead man. It could have been laughable at the time, but Quill had been nothing but understanding about the whole thing. 

Ambrosio swore that Ace would come back home to them, but Marco couldn’t help but to have his doubts. Ambrosio was a miracle in and of itself, he knew. If Ace made it so that Ambrosio could keep Marco company while helping him to move on, didn’t that suggest that Ace would not be following?

A deep pain filled his heart at the thought, it always did when he got like this. A dreadful thing to think about right before he fell back into a state of unconsciousness, but it lingered still anyway. He could only hope that Ambrosio was right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot more free time today then I thought I would, so I figured I post a couple more chapters. I apparently have very little self control, lol.

The early morning light filtering in through the living room window is what roused Marco out of a deep sleep. The second thing that helped to return him back to the land of the waking was two familiar voices calling his name right before they pounced on top of him. Marco opened his eyes with a low, pain filled groan to see Ambrosio and Clementine staring back at him with wide eyes and eager grins.

“_ Dad_!”

“Mr. Marco!”

“We thought you were dead!”

“We thought my mom was dead, too!”

“Come on, you tiny terrors, give the man some space!” Quill exclaimed, picking them up with a loud rumbling in his chest. Quill stood about three inches shorter than Marco himself, but his chest was broad and his shoulders wide. He was incredibly strong. “Let’s go get you guys some breakfast!”

Marco gave the man a thankful smile as he took the kids into the kitchen. Beyond the slight fatigue he still felt, Marco decided that he was in overall good shape. Not bad for an old man, he thought.

“You’re up! Good,” Mirabelle greeted him with a thumbs up. “There’s someone _ dying _to talk to you. Well, maybe ‘dying’ isn’t the right word, but you know what I mean! Go talk to her! Go, go.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Marco said, though there was no real bite to his words. 

Honeydew looked well save some bruising here and there. She had showered, and with a new set of clothes she looked nothing like she had the afternoon prior. Her smile was infectious.

“I’m glad to see you doing well,” he said, checking her over just in case.

“All thanks to you, Marco-san.”

“Marco’s just fine.”

Honeydew laughed at that. “I...really am so thankful,” she said. “If not for you and Mirabelle...I was so terrified that he was going to harm Clementine, too.”

“We wouldn’t have ever let that happened.”

She laughed again as tears filled her eyes. “I’ve never felt so free,” she said.

“You’re a good person, Honeydew. You deserve to have a good life here with your daughter.”

The two talked for a while before he left to allow her to get some much needed rest. He found Ambrosio in the kitchen with Clementine, Mirabelle and Quill. Mirabelle gave him a warm embrace, tightening her hold as she began to tremble.

“Thank you so much, Marco,” she said. 

“No problem, yoi,” he said, returning the embrace tenfold. “You three make sure she gets plenty of rest for the next week or so.”

“Oh, she’s not going anywhere,” Mirabelle said.

“What about school?” Ambrosio asked, head tilted to one side. 

“You guys will be seeing my beautiful mug for the next couple of days,” Quill said, finishing up the oyakodon he’d started.

“_ Really_?” Clementine asked, her eyes going twice as wide as they already were.

“Really, really,” he said. “I might be a pirate, but I’m an educated one thanks to your mom.”

Marco grinned at that, picking Ambrosio up as they got ready to leave. “Thank you for putting me up for the evening, yoi,” he said.

“No problem,” Quill said, “and here, before you go. I made you each a bowl to go.”

“Thank you!” Ambrosio exclaimed, taking his.

“Yes, thank you, Quill,” Marco added. “I’ll be sure to get the dishes back to you in one piece.”

Quill flashed him a brilliant smile at that. “No worries,” he said, waving the two off. 

“Bye, Clementine!” Ambrosio shouted, the sheer volume making Marco’s ears ring. “Tell your mom I hope she gets better soon!”

Marco carried him halfway home before he grew too fatigued to do so any further. Ambrosio seemed to understand his plight, taking his father’s hand into his. “Don’t worry, dad,” he said with a cheerful smile. “One day I’ll be strong enough to carry you!” 

Marco chuckled at that, his heart filled with warmth as a small smile painted his otherwise weary expression. “I look forward to it,” he said. 

“I can’t wait to eat Quill-san’s food! I’m starving!” Ambrosio exclaimed, holding his bowl with the utmost care. 

“You’re always starving,” Marco said with a laugh,” but Quill-san does make some really good food. He has his own diner in town, you know.”

“Yeah, he’s cool. Clementine’s lucky to have him as an uncle. Well, technically, I guess he’s her cousin, but he’s way older than her.”

“Well, you’ll be having him as a teacher for a little while, at least.” 

“Yeah! That’ll be fun, but I’ll really miss Honeydew-san, though. She’s so nice, and she always brings snacks for reading time.”

The two made their way home, and though Marco felt too drained to do much of anything, he made sure that Ambrosio ate and cleaned his room while he got started on the laundry. He figured it was the least he could do. A sharp knock came around early evening, and Marco was surprised to see Jade on the other side.

“Hey, Marco!” he greeted, two large bags held in both hands. “Mom had a couple of things to do down at the shop, but she wanted me to give you this as a thank you for helping Honeydew. She was really worried about you two, so she wanted to make sure you ate.”

“She didn’t have to do all this,” Marco said, amazed by the woman’s generosity. 

Jade gave a gapped-tooth smile at that. “Yeah, well, you know her,” he said. “She won’t take no for an answer.” 

“I’ll be sure to give her my thanks the next time I see her.”

“Later! Bye, Ambrosio!”

“Bye!”

Marco shut the door behind him, taking the food into the kitchen, feeling Ambrosio’s gaze upon him the entire time. “We’re going to have a lot of dishes to return, yoi,” he said, grateful all the same.

“Jade’s really good at janken,” Ambrosio said.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, he might even be better than papa, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Ace used to play janken with you, yoi?”

“Yep!”

“I’m not surprised,” Marco said, shaking his head in amusement at the thought. 

“Hey, dad?”

“Yes, Ambrosio?”

“Clementine’s dad...he’s not coming back, is he?” he asked as he took a seat at the kitchen table. 

Marco hummed as he thought in depth about how to respond. “No, he’s not,” he said, pleased to see two large servings of teriyaki chicken and white rice waiting for them.

Marco thought Ace ate a lot, but Ambrosio easily had him beat. 

“Because he’s dead, right?”

“Yes,” Marco said, setting the table before reminding his son to go ahead and wash up for dinner. 

“When people die, they normally don’t come back...right?”

“As far as I know, yoi,” Marco said. “Why?”

Ambrosio’s eyes stared down at his lap, but Marco could see the despair looming in them, his dark lashes misted with tears. “I think maybe papa lied to me,” he said, taking a deep breath, “and if he did, I’ll _ never _be able to forgive him!”

Marco could feel his heart threaten to shatter at the sight. “You love your papa, right?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Ambrosio murmured, taking a small bite of his food.

“And you trust him, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then give him some time, yoi,” he said, losing his appetite in the process. “Believe in him.”

Ambrosio gave him a broken little smile, and shook his head. “I will,” he said. “Thanks, dad.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Now, finish up so we can get ready for bed.”

Ambrosio did as told, and nothing made Marco laugh harder than watching as his son fell asleep while brushing his teeth. He always did without fail. 

“Come on, Ambrosio,” he cooed, picking the sleepy boy up as he carried him to bed. “You want me to tell you a story?”

“Is it about those Germa guys again?”

“No, this is about a notorious pirate, one of the four Yonko,” Marco began, brushing through Ambrosio’s hair with his fingers, untangling the soft curls. “His name was Whitebeard, and he was born and raised right here on this very island...”


	5. Chapter 5

Three days passed without incident, but Marco felt haunted by the conversation he’d had with Ambrosio that night. The child was in better spirits, but his doubts echoed through Marco’s person all the same. He felt guilty for feeling the same way, but Marco was an adult. 

He’d seen Ace die right before his very eyes. It was a memory he could never seem to shake.

“I’ll see you later, dad! Take good care of all the hurt people, okay?” Ambrosio said, pressing a loud kiss to Marco’s cheek as the blonde set him down, handing him his lunch. 

“I will take very good care of them,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Do your best today, Ambrosio.”

“I do my best everyday!”

“I’m sure, yoi,” Marco said with a roll of his eyes.

Quill smiled as he caught sight of them by the front entrance, welcoming Ambrosio in with a warm smile. “Good morning, Ambrosio!” he cheered. “Ready for a new day?”

“Yup! Is Clementine already inside?”

“She is, but you better hurry before she drinks all the juice!” 

Marco chuckled as Ambrosio took off inside. He took the opportunity to return Mirabelle’s dishes back to him. “Thank you for breakfast, it was delicious,” he said. 

“Thank you for saving my aunt’s life.”

“How’s she doing, by the way?”

“She’s still got some bruising, but she’s moving around a lot better. You’re one hell of a healer, Marco.”

“A devil fruit’s gotta be good for something, yoi,” he said with a wave. “I’ll check in on her sometime tomorrow.”

“I’ll let her and my mom know to expect you.”

Marco intended on making his usual rounds about town, but that thought got tossed to the wayside as Cristobal came running at him full force, his arms waving to and fro as he shouted, “Marco! Marco, come quick!”

“What’s wrong, yoi?”

“Old man Flint and I were down by the waterfall working on the well when _ something _happened! I don’t even know how to explain it!” 

“Someone’s trying to pass through the waterfall?”

“Or _ something_! It, it sounded like a mortar or something!” 

“Get everyone away from the surrounding areas while I go and check it out, yoi,” Marco said, morphing into his phoenix form as he soared through the sky, making his way to the waterfall with minimal effort. 

Marco transformed back into his human form as he approached the hidden entrance, waiting for whatever happened to be on the other side. He didn’t have to wait too long as someone crossed through the fresh falling water. Marco prepared to launch an attack, but faltered at the last moment, nearly tripping over himself.

“Ace?” he called out, his heart hammering in his chest as Ace’s attention settled on him within an instant, the freckles across his cheeks shifting as he broke out into a wide grin, laughing only as Ace could.

Marco froze, his entire body going stiff all over as Ace raced over to him, tackling the blonde to the ground. His eyes slid shut as Ace kissed him, hard, on the mouth, his lips lingering warmly against his own. Ace pulled away just enough to peer down at Marco with a soft, dream-like expression. 

“I’m home,” he said, words murmured against Marco’s lips as he kissed him again.


	6. Chapter 6

Marco found that his voice refused to work, his words lost in the tightening of his throat. The tears began to fall without his knowledge or consent, but Ace merely wiped them all away. “You’ve cried enough for a lifetime, Marco,” he said, his body warm and alive pressed up against his own. 

Marco couldn’t breathe, couldn’t believe it.

“_ Ace_,” he croaked, bringing the other man down for a kiss, deepening it as far as he could until they were both robbed of breath. “Ace.” 

“Let’s go home, Marco.” 

Marco could only obey. He sent word to Cristobal that all was safe, just a false alarm, and then he took Ace home. He closed the door, expecting Ace to disappear, but two arms wrapped around his middle instead. A warm chest pressed against his back, a beating heart echoing through. He began to cry soundlessly.

“I missed you so much, Marco,” Ace said, his lips pressed against the side of the blonde’s neck, his warm breath sending shivers throughout Marco’s entire being. “I missed your touch, your smell.”

“Ace, are you really here?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper. “Or have I really gone and lost my mind now? 

“I’m here, Marco,” he said, allowing for the other man to turn around. “I’m here for you, and Ambrosio, too.”

“He’s so beautiful, Ace,” he said as the brunette cradled his face in between his hands, bringing him down for a chaste kiss. “He looks so much like you.”

“And you,” Ace murmured, kissing Marco again and again. 

When they next parted, Ace turned to study the house Marco had worked so hard to make into a home. He walked over to Marco’s bed, plopping down onto the mattress just as he used to do when they lived on the Moby together. Marco followed him soundlessly, noticing the scar that marred the other’s chest, looking like a flower in full bloom. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he said, taking one of Marco’s hands into both of his as he sealed a kiss across the blonde’s knuckles. 

“How...”

“I lost my flames,” Ace said after a moment. “I can’t leave this island, Marco. Ever.”

Marco didn’t pretend to understand the why or how of it, but he shook his head all the same. “We’ll stay here,” he promised. “We’ll raise Ambrosio. You’re all I want, Ace. All I need.”

Ace smiled at that, a soft, sweet thing that tasted even sweeter on Marco’s lips. Marco sighed into it as Ace undid the last few buttons of his dress shirt. His kisses grew more intense, more desperate, and Marco returned them in full. 

“Marco—”

“Yes,” he said, settling Ace back onto the bed as he continued to press kiss after kiss across the other’s freckled cheeks, down along his neck and chest. 

Ace’s fingers tangled in the blonde’s hair, his back arching as Marco took one of his sensitive buds in between his teeth, biting down. Ace let out a choked-off sob, yanking on Marco’s hair as he continued to play with his chest, well aware that it was a weak point. Marco undid both of Ace’s belts, tossing them aside with little to no care. 

“Your shirt, take it off,” Ace ordered, lips swollen and shiny with spit. 

Marco gave a lazy smirk at that as he leaned back, obeying Ace’s command. “Demanding as ever, I see,” he said. 

“You know it,” Ace whispered, enthralled with the sight of Marco above him. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Marco said, voice scratched raw with unshed emotion. 

“I know.”

Ace brought him down for another kiss, his tongue sliding across the seal of Marco’s lips. The blonde happily granted him access, groaning as Ace deepened it. The whole thing proved to be desperate and too much, and Marco knew that neither one of them would be able to last long in this state. 

“_Marco_,” Ace moaned, his hips raised as Marco undid the button and zipper of Ace’s cargo shorts. 

Ace removed the sash from around Marco’s waist, repeating the process of what the blonde had done for him just prior. Marco couldn’t help the low whine that escaped his throat, reaching into the night stand for a bottle of lubricant he kept stashed towards the back. He eagerly poured a generous amount into the palm of his hand, slicking himself up before doing the same to Ace. 

“_Fuck_,” Ace cursed, his head tossed back as Marco took them both in hand.

Marco moved his hand in tandem with his thrusts, the feeling of their cocks pressed together and the friction it created stirred a simmering heat that began to billow into a raging inferno. Ace pulled Marco down for a ravenous kiss, taking the blonde’s bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging gently. Marco’s heart began to pound within the confines of his chest, his hearing going in and out as Ace moaned and writhed underneath him.

“I-I’m not gonna last like this,” Ace whined, breath coming out in short, desperate pants. 

“Me, neither,” Marco conceded, speeding up just in time to watch Ace unravel in full. Marco didn’t last much longer after that, the sight alone enough to push him over the edge. He hadn’t been with anyone since Ace had died. 

“I love you, Marco,” he said, trying desperately to catch his breath, his eyes brimming with tears. “I love you so much. I didn’t want to die.” 

Marco held Ace close as he began to shake and cry. Marco shed a few tears himself, thinking back to that moment for what must have been the thousandth time. 

“I didn’t want to die, but I tried to be brave for Luffy.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to you in time. I’m so sorry I failed you.”

“You didn’t,” he cried. “Marco, you didn’t. I know how hard you tried. I know how hard you all tried. Pops, he...”

“Teach, he—”

“It doesn’t matter. Teach doesn’t matter, Marco. Not anymore. I should have never went after him like I did...I never knew what would happen. I didn’t think—”

“It’s okay, Ace,” he said. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” 

The pair took a quick shower, and Marco felt an uneasy feeling wash over him whenever Ace didn’t happen to be in his line of sight, and while he didn’t know if the feeling would ever disappear entirely, he felt thankful all the same. Ace appeared quite content to cling to the blonde whenever he got the chance to, and Marco couldn’t say that he minded, really. A little over three years apart would do that to anyone, he figured. 

“Ambosio’s room looks amazing, Marco,” Ace said, joining Marco back on the bed after the blonde had stripped and changed the sheets for them. “I knew he'd be more than okay living with you.”

“Hey says you sent him to me,” Marco said, taking Aces hand in his as he settled back against him. “You and the thunder bird, that is.” 

“I couldn’t stand watching you like this,” Ace whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “After the third year, I really thought you were going to kill yourself...accidentally or not.”

“Ace...”

“I felt tormented leaving like I did. My soul was so shattered that I couldn’t crossover like Thatch and Pops did. I was stuck in limbo, watching as Shanks carried my body. I watched you guys bury Pops and I, you know? Everyone left, but you. You refused. I wanted so badly to talk to you, to hold you...to let you know it was okay to move on.”

“I couldn’t,” Marco said, his chest tightening uncomfortably the longer he thought about it. “The Payback Wars, Teach...”

“You were so focused on revenge, Marco, and when you couldn’t get it...you started to fade away,” he said. “A god or a devil fruit user, I don’t know which, took pity on me. They asked me who you were to me, and so I told them. They gave Ambrosio to me in order to try and heal some of the pain I felt. I guess they figured that if Ambrosio healed my heart, that I would crossover, but it didn’t happen that way.”

“You sent him to me instead.”

“I knew Luffy had friends that would take the best care of him, but I know you, Marco. I know losing Pops was the final nail in the coffin, figuratively and literally. You weren’t upset that you didn’t defeat Teach, you were upset because you didn’t die, too.”

Marco sighed, his hands shaking as Ace turned to face him with misty gray eyes that haunted both his dreams as well as his nightmares. “I didn’t want to live in a world without you in it,” he admitted. “It all looked so bleak.” 

“I thought if you had at least a part of me, you’d do better. I knew that in order to care for Ambrosio that you would have to start caring for yourself as well,” Ace said,” and you did, but I still couldn’t move on.”

“So you did lie to Ambrosio...”

“I didn’t want to, Marco! I didn’t. I loved him so much, more than anything else in the world. I would look into his eyes, and there you were! He’s smart like you, too. He picks everything up so quickly,” Ace said, brows furrowed, but a large grin plastered across his face anyway. 

“I wanted him to have a life, and I knew the only way he’d be able to was with you.”

Marco placed a gentle kiss to one of Ace’s flushed cheeks. “He’s got a lot of friends, yoi,” he said. “Everyone loves him.”

“You could have died, Marco,” Ace said, chastising the other man. “I know you saved that woman’s life, but you took a large risk exerting yourself like that!”

“I’ve done worse, Ace,” he argued. 

“Yeah, _ before _ you had our son to think about! I was so upset that I refused to crossover _ again_,” he said with a spiteful lilt. “I finally told the bird that I couldn’t, that I’d be stuck in limbo for all eternity. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. That bird started going nuts. The next thing I know, I’m crashing back down to earth mind, body and soul.” 

Marco could tell that Ace was beginning to struggle the further he explained himself, and so he took the younger man into his arms, inhaling the soft scent of hibiscus that lingered in his hair. “That’s enough for today, yoi,” he said. “I just want to enjoy your company a little while longer until it’s time to pick Ambrosio up from school.”

Ace chuckled at that. “You jealous that you’re going to have to share my attention now?” he asked.

“No, not at all. I’m just not willing to scar the kid, yoi.” 

Ace grinned wolfishly at that. “Oh, I see,” he said, turning around so that he could sit comfortably in Marco’s lap. “I didn’t think about that. We’re going to have to be _very_ careful not to get caught.”

“You sound way too excited about this, yoi. I don’t trust you now.”


	7. Chapter 7

Marco felt a little bad about picking Ambrosio up late from school, and a lot of ashamed, but he knew a way to more than make up for it. Quill greeted him at the door with his usual happy-go-lucky smile, his dark clothes covered in various colors of chalk. Ambrosio had a juice in one hand, and a cookie in the other. 

“What took you so long?” the boy asked, looking mighty discontent for someone who’d obviously woken up from a nap less than ten minutes ago. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you, yoi,” he said, his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. 

“A surprise?” he asked, head cocked to the side as he studied Marco in depth. “What kind of surprise?”

“The best surprise you’re ever gonna get!” Ace shouted, jumping out from behind one of the various trees. 

Ambrosio dropped his snack and drink unceremoniously to the ground, his legs carrying him to where Ace and Marco stood side-by-side. He crashed head first into his papa, but Ace didn’t seem to mind one ounce as he scooped him up into his arms, swinging him around a couple of times as they laughed and laughed and laughed. Ambrosio started to cry, wrapping his arms tightly around Ace’s shoulders. 

“_ Papa_!” he cried, placing his nose into the crook of Ace’s neck. “You came! You finally came back to me!”

“I’m home, _ Brosi_,” Ace said, his voice choked up with a series of emotions. “I’m so sorry it took so long for me to get here.”

“It’s okay,” Ambrosio said, wiping his eyes as he cried harder. “I’m just...just so glad you’re back here with me and daddy. We missed you!”

Marco’s heart swelled with absolute pride and warmth at the sight. Ace and Ambrosio looked so much alike, and seeing them side-by-side like that only proved that notion further. He turned to see Quill studying the trio with rapt curiosity, and he felt momentarily bad about forgetting the man’s presence for the time being. 

“A special visitor, Marco?” he asked, head inclined to one side as he studied Ace in depth, his hands in his pockets as he carried on as normal. 

“Ambrosio’s father made it to the island this morning,” he said, careful about the words he chose to use. “They haven’t seen each other in quite a long time. It’s very emotional for the both of them.”

“Oh,” Quill said, the confusion obvious in the way he continued to look back and forth between the three of them, perplexed. “I didn’t know Ambrosio had another father.”

“Yup,” Ace said, propping Ambrosio up on one hip as he walked over to where Quill stood, extending his hand. “The name’s Ace, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Same,” Quill said, shaking Ace’s hand. “Well, the kids made quite a huge mess in there, so I’ve got some cleaning up to do. I look forward to seeing you around, Ace. See you tomorrow, Ambrosio. Later, Marco.”

“Bye, Quill!”

“Thank you for taking such good care of him,” Marco said. “I know it can’t be easy.” 

“Of course.”

“Papa, you’re wearing a shirt of some sort,” Ambrosio said, playing with the unbuttoned khaki top the further they walked home.

“Yeah, thankfully your dad had a couple of my old ones lying around,” Ace said, winking over at Marco.

“That button up is a memento from when we first met, yoi,” he said, careful to omit the _ where _ and _ why _of it. 

Marco had yet to explain his and Ace’s past to Ambrosio, neglecting to tell the poor boy that not only were his parents high ranking pirates themselves, but also that Ace’s father was none other than the Pirate King. He figured if Ace wanted him to know, he would tell him himself. Marco spoke frequently of Pops and living at sea, but he’d never once mentioned the fact that his loving father figure and the Yonko Whitebeard were one and the same. 

After what had happened to Ace as a result of his bloodline, Marco was highly protective over Ambrosio’s safety, and while he doubted that anyone would believe that he belonged to the both of them, Marco had no trouble assuming that the World Government would suspect Ace as having fathered a child with some random woman. The thought irked him, to be entirely honest. Ambrosio looked like him, too, after all. 

“Marco, you look like you’re thinking way too seriously about something,” Ace said, embracing the blonde from behind. “You’re going to get wrinkles frowning like that.”

Marco laughed at that, adding chopped vegetables to the stew he was in the process of cooking. Ace nibbled on his shoulder, his hands smoothed up and down along Marco’s sides. The blonde could only shake his head in a combination of exasperation and fondness, Ace’s antics never ceasing to amuse him. 

“I’ve held up so far,” he said, glancing back at the other man out of the corner of his eye. 

“You really have, daddy~”

“_ Ace_.”

The younger of the two let out a short snort, backing off as he wandered back over to the kitchen table where Ambrosio was focusing on his school work, or at least trying to. The child’s attention span had a tendency to wander on the best of days, but having Ace home made that ten times worse. Ace tried to help him as best as he could, but Marco prepared himself for a long night ahead anyway. 

He wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

“Daddy, is the food almost ready?!” Ambrosio asked. “We’re _ starving_!”

“Almost, almost,” he said, staring the two down. “We’re going to have to get groceries tomorrow after Ambrosio goes to school.”

“How _ domestic_,” Ace cooed, chin resting in his upturned palms.

“What’s domestic mean?” Ambrosio asked, head cocked.

“Gross shit adults do when they’re in love.” 

“Eww!” Ambrosio exclaimed, sticking his tongue out as he made a choking noise.

“_ Ace_!”

“What? It's true.”

“It’s in relation to running one's household and family, Ambrosio,” Marco said. “We need to buy groceries so we—as a family—don’t starve.” 

“We’re gonna starve?!”

“Not as long as we pick up groceries tomorrow,” he said, ignoring the fact that Ace was too busy cracking up at their general exchange. 

Marco spent most of dinner reminding Ambrosio and Ace not to chew and talk at the same time. About halfway through dinner, Ace suffered from a narcolepsy attack, face planting into the table, and thankfully, not his stew. Ambrosio appeared rather startled by the whole event, but Marco reassured him that Ace would eventually be fine. 

“You’ll have to get used to it, I know,” he said, collecting both his and Ambrosio’s bowls as they waited for Ace to wake up. “I had to, too, at first. It normally only happens after he overeats, yoi.”

Ambrosio hummed to himself as he grabbed a wooden stool, setting it beside Marco as he climbed up on top of it. Marco washed the dishes while Ambrosio dried them, taking on small responsibilities here and there. Thankfully, Ambrosio didn’t try to get out of it like _ some _people Marco knew. 

“He’s kinda like me, except I only fall asleep when I brush my teeth, haha!”

“Exactly, yoi.”

After a few minutes, Ace sat up, looking around with bleary eyes until he spotted Marco and Ambrosio at the kitchen sink. “_ Crap_,” he said, fixing his hair. “What time is it?”

“You weren’t out for very long, yoi,” Marco said, scooping Ambrosio up with the intention of getting the child ready for bed. “I’m going to go ahead and draw Ambrosio a bath if you want to finish eating.”

“I can eat later,” he said, standing up. “Let me get Ambrosio ready for bed.” 

“You sure, yoi?”

“Marco, come on,” Ace said, taking the child from him. “You’ve been doing all of this for nearly two months now. I’ll put him to bed, so go read or something.” 

“Okay,” Marco said, at a loss for words. Ace smirked at him as he pressed a quick kiss to the blonde’s lips before disappearing around the corner. 

Marco picked up a journal on autoimmune disorders, taking notes as he thought back to Luna, her thick black hair and heterochromia eyes (one brown, the other blue), and the woman’s daily struggle living with rheumatoid arthritis. A young person with joints that resembled that of someone three times her age. He could ease her discomfort, yes, but he wanted to treat the underlying problem, too. He wanted to know if there was a way to suppress her immune system to stop her body from attacking its own healthy tissues and cartilage. A journal from a winter island in Paradise promised to hold some clues as to possible treatments, at least. 

Marco finished just in time as Ace crawled into bed beside him, placing a lingering kiss to his lips. “All done,” he said with a charming smile only he could ever muster. 

Marco set the journal on the nightstand along with his glasses, turning the lamp off in the process. “Any issues?” he asked, grinning as Ace crawled up and onto his lap, removing his over shirt. 

“_ Nope_,” Ace said, tilting Marco’s chin up so that he could deepen their kiss. “He’s a fucking angel, Marco.” 

Marco chuckled at that, settling his large hands on either side of Ace’s narrow hips. “I love him, too,” he said, and he did. 

Ambrosio was the perfect mixture between the both of them, and he couldn’t have asked for more. 

“You’re an amazing father,” Ace said, staring deeply into Marco’s tranquil-like eyes. “All I could do was watch you with him.”

“Ace,” he said, tightening his hold on the younger man. 

“Yeah?”

“You never gave me an answer back then,” he said, studying Ace’s face as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes. “Before you took off after Teach. When I asked you to marry me?”

“You still want to marry me, Marco? After everything that’s happened?” he asked, and Marco could see the regret and shame that contorted the other’s features under the dim light from the full moon looming outside their bedroom window. 

“I’ve always wanted to marry you, Ace, and I always will.” 

“If I say yes, you can’t change your mind!” Ace exclaimed, and Marco couldn’t help but laugh at the other’s expense. “I’m being serious here!”

“And so am I,” Marco said, giving Ace a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m asking you to marry me, yoi. _ Again_.”

“Yes,” he said, nuzzling the side of Marco’s face. “Please marry me, Marco.” 

“We can get married on the beach, yoi. The ruins scattered about add a certain appeal to it.”

“And the honeymoon?” Ace asked with a sly grin. 

“There’s a cottage on the east side of the forest that I fixed up,” he said, deep in thought. “No one ever goes to that part of the island, yoi. The only guests we might have is a couple of sphinxes.”

Ace let out a loud laugh at that. “Sounds perfect,” he said. “I want to get married as soon as possible. I’m not going to waste this second chance, Marco. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted domestic, married bliss for these two ;-;


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Marco and Ace dropped Ambrosio off after a hectic start to their morning. Ace had a difficult time letting Ambrosio go, but after a dozen frantic kisses or so, he let go of the poor child. Ambrosio introduced Clementine to Ace before the duo left. 

“She’s a cute kid,” he said as they headed towards the market. 

“Ambrosio and her her get along really quite well.” 

“She’s the daughter of the woman you saved, right?”

“Yes, Honeydew’s their normal teacher, but she’s still recovering.”

Ace nodded. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you about that,” he said after a moment or two.

“I know you must’ve been afraid that we would both die, and leave Ambrosio all alone,” he said, taking Ace’s hand into his own. This was something they could never do in public when they were still 1st and 2nd Commanders in Whitebeard’s crew. “We both know what it feels like to grow up as orphans, yoi. I had no intentions of ever leaving him, Ace.”

Ace gave his hand a firm squeeze. “I know,” he said, “but that was then, and this is now. We’re both here now. We better make every second of every day count.”

Marco smiled at that. “Look, we get to do all the gross shit we couldn’t do before, yoi,” he said, laughing when Ace stuck his tongue out at him. 

“_ Domestic_,” he said, nose held in the air.

“I wanted to take you over to Clover-san’s shop before we go grocery shopping.”

“Who’s Clover?”

“A seamstress,” he said. “She helped me with Ambrosio’s clothes.”

“Oh,” Ace said with a leering smile. “You looking to spend some money on me, dearest?”

“Of course, love,” he shot back with the best bedroom eyes he could muster. “What’s the point of hoarding treasure if I don’t get to spend it on the one’s I love?”

“You’re making me blush, idiot!” Ace exclaimed, shoving the other man as his cheeks filled with warmth. 

“That just makes it even better.”

The two bickered back and forth the entire way, drawing the attention of all those around them. Marco paid them no mind, but just like with Ambrosio, he knew that Ace and him were about to be the talk of the small town. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, his heart content for the first time in years.

“Marco, what a pleasure to see you!” Clover greeted. “Are you here for you or the little one today?”

“Actually, I’m here for my fiancé,” he said, enjoying the loud squawk Ace let out as a result. 

“Fiancé?!” the woman exclaimed, taking in Ace’s appearance for the first time. “Oh, my. He looks just like Ambrosio-kun.”

“I would sure hope so,” Ace said with a charming smile as he gave a slight bow. “He is my son, after all. I’m Ace, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

To Marco’s surprise, she didn’t ask any questions. “It’s very nice to meet you as well, Ace. Let’s pick out some clothes for you, shall we?”

“I’d love to, Clover-san,” he said, following after her. “My future husband _ loves _to spoil me.”

Marco could only chuckle, taking a seat on the wooden bench as he waited for Ace to make his selections. Unlike Ambrosio, Ace knew what he liked and what he didn’t. The pros of being an adult with years of trial and error. 

“What do you think?” Ace asked.

Marco looked up from his watch just in time to see the other man in his usual cargo shorts, but with a sheer crimson, loose fitting long sleeve shirt that clung to him in all the right ways. The blonde couldn’t look away from him, it looked almost as sinful as when Ace walked around topless. 

“I like it,” he said, at a loss for more eloquent words. By Ace’s shit-eating grin, he knew exactly what Marco meant. 

“Good, because I’ve got an orange and black one, too. They’re pretty comfy, and they, you know, cover the scars on my chest and back pretty well.”

Marco moved at that, crossing the short distance to where Ace stood in an instant. “There’s nothing to hide, yoi,” he said, caressing one of Ace’s freckled cheeks. 

“I know,” Ace said, voice barely above a whisper, “but I’m not the same Ace I was before, either. I can’t go picking up our kid shirtless all the time. I’m _ not _some pervert!” 

“Could’ve fooled me, yoi.”

Ace rolled his eyes at that, but smirked at the other man nonetheless. “Yeah, well, with you it’s different,” he teased. 

“Anything else catch your eye, yoi?”

“Besides you?Just a pair or two of shorts.”

“Grab ‘em.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marco could hear Clover snicker as Ace headed back to the other side of the shop. He offered the poor woman an apologetic smile. 

“Clover-san, I was wondering if you could help us out with something,” he said, paying for Ace’s clothes. 

“What can I do for you, Marco?”

“As you know, we’re planning on getting married sometime within the next six months or so,” he said, “and I was wondering if you would be able to help us with our suits as well as a suit for Ambrosio.”

“Oh, Marco! I would love to!” she exclaimed, coming around the counter to give him a big hug. “You would just have to detail what you each would like to wear on your special day! The cut, measurements, materials, and so forth and so on!”

“We haven’t quite figured that out yet, but when we do we’ll be more than happy to stop by and go over them with you, Clover-san.” 

“Fantastic!” she exclaimed.”Just let me know. You, too, Ace!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ace said.

Once finished, they headed towards the market. Ace happily carried his bags as Marco explained where everything in town could be located. 

“What do we need to pick up grocery-wise?” Ace asked. 

“I wrote a list,” Marco said, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his pants pocket. 

“You made a list?” Ace asked, bursting out into a fit of laughter. 

“You try remembering everything we need on your own!” 

Ace sighed at that, a forlorn look coming over him. “That was Thatch’s job,” he said. 

Marco slung an arm over Ace’s shoulder then. “I know, yoi,” he said. “I know.”

“Where’s Izo at these days?” he asked, and Marco wished he wouldn’t torture himself like this. 

“Izo went back home,” Marco answered, thinking back to the last letter he’d received from their sworn brother. 

“But Kaido...?”

“Ace, there’s a lot we need to discuss concerning your little brother.”

“Luffy?!”

“The one and the same.” 

“You have to tell me everything, Marco! Before we go to bed tonight, okay?”

“It’ll probably take me a couple of nights to get you up to date on everything.” 

“I don’t care!” Ace exclaimed. “I need to know.” 

Marco shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll tell you everything, yoi,” he said. 

Marco would tell him everything, and he would spare no detail, but his weariness grew the further his thoughts gravitated towards Sabo. He didn’t know how he would tell Ace that not only was his dear brother alive and well, but that he’d inherited the Mera Mera no Mi from Luffy himself in Dressrosa in a one-on-one battle with none other than Jesus Burgess from Blackbeard’s crew.

“Don’t look so down,” Ace said, coming to a sudden halt as he placed a kiss to Marco’s chin. “We’ll get through it all eventually. 

“We’re you never curious about how the others were doing?”

“To be honest, no. I missed them, sure, but I wasn’t worried about them. Pops told me before he crossed over that you were suffering,” Ace said, kicking a rock with the tip of his boot. “He was afraid that you didn’t want to live anymore, especially considering the fact that we were both dead...the man you looked to as your father and the man you loved.” 

“I didn’t want to live,” Marco admitted. “I didn’t know what to do with myself after that point. I’d lost my purpose and my happiness all in one day.” 

“Marco...”

“I couldn’t even bury you, yoi,” he said, taking a trembling breath as he did so. “If not for Shanks’ help, I don’t know what I would have done. I spent the first three days blackout drunk.”

“I know...”

“I feel terrible and ashamed that you had to see me like that, yoi.”

“I’m not,” Ace said with a gentle smile. “I wanted to watch over you, but I guess that wasn’t good enough for me in the end.” 

Marco cracked a small smile at that. “Considering that you’re here right now in front of me, no, I don’t think it was,” he said. 

“Come on,” the younger of the two said, taking Marco’s hand back into his own. “Let’s be all domestic and gross so that we can be even more domestic and gross when we get home.”

“Whatever love wants, love gets.” 

Marco felt blessed that both he and Ace were strong as they needed all that excess strength in order to get everything they bought back home. The next step was trying to find a place to put all of it. 

“How hard do you think it would be to build a pantry?” Ace asked once they were finished, laying on top of Marco who was sprawled out on the sofa with aching muscles. “I mean, you’ve got more room for books than you do for food at this point.”

“I don’t imagine it to be that difficult, but we could always get Flint or his wife, Daffodil, to lend us a hand,” Marco said, eyes loosely shut. “They were the ones to help me out with Ambrosio’s room.”

“That kid’s spoiled,” Ace muttered, kissing the side of Marco’s jaw. “Dadan thought a futon was too much.” 

Marco chuckled. “I don’t remember the first time I slept in a real bed,” he said. “Hell, I didn’t even know what a cot was until I joined Pops’ crew.”

“How old were you again when you joined Pops?”

“Three months shy of my thirteenth birthday, yoi,” he responded. “I was the youngest chore boy in the crew.”

Ace laughed at that. “I didn’t even take off to sea until I was seventeen,” he said. 

“No choice, yoi,” Marco said. “The island I was born and raised on was burned to the ground when I was twelve years old.”

“You’re from North Blue, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The story you told Ambrosio about Germa Double-six...?”

“Holds a lot of truth to it, yoi.”

“I’m sorry, Marco.”

“The Conquest of Four Nations was a long time ago,” he said, turning to look at the clock on the far side of the wall. “I promised that I would go and check in on Honeydew, yoi. Would you mind going to pick Ambrosio up from school?”

“Of course not,” Ace said, sitting up so that Marco could do the same. “I’ll even make some lunch, how’s that sound?

“Sounds great,” Marco said, eyes half-lidded as Ace leaned down for a chaste kiss, his hands trailing along the blonde’s distinctive abs. 

“I’ve got to be on my best behavior if I’m going to be a doctor’s wife,” he teased, jumping off of the sofa before Marco could catch him.

“_ Brat _.”

  
  


Marco arrived at Mirabelle’s house where her sister was still in the process of recovering. The woman greeted him warmly, ushering him inside with a damp dish towel slung over her shoulder and loud laugh. 

“Quill said you’d be stopping by,” Mirabelle said, offering Marco a cup of coffee which he politely declined. 

“I heard Honeydew’s moving around much better now, yoi,” he said. 

“Oh, yes! I can’t keep her out of the garden now.” 

Marco smiled at the news, well aware of Honeydew’s love for flowers. He figured he could use her expertise to help create his own some day. A wedding present of sorts for Ace. 

“Marco! How lovely to see you,” said woman greeted, sitting outside in a long yellow sundress with a wide brim hat. 

“Hello there, Honeydew,” he said in turn, taking a seat beside her on the swingset she swayed to and fro on. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked,her eyes glued to the scenery in front of them. 

“Very.”

“Mirabelle inherited the house from my parents after they passed,” she explained. “My mother was paralyzed from the waist down after an accident when I was seven years old. She grew rather depressed as a result, and so my father worked day and night to build her this garden. Those mango trees have been here for nearly twenty years now.”

“What did your mother think about it?”

“Oh,she adored it! My sister and I helped her to plant most of the flowers, but the hibiscus trees were always her favorite,” she said with a radiant smile no longer obscured by terrible bruising. 

“I’m sure you and Mirabelle have the best gardens on the whole island, yoi.”

“Mine isn’t as developed as this one, but I miss it all the same. Clementine and I have spent a lot of time and hard work there, and I look forward to going back home tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re ready, yoi?”

“Someone’s got to clear all of Claude’s things out of there,” she said with a casual shrug. “I figured I’d light some sage, and get to work.” 

“Well, if you need help, you know where to reach me,” Marco said, sincere with his desire to help. 

“Quill said he met Ambrosio’s other father yesterday afternoon.”

“Yes, that would be Ace,” Marco explained. “He made it to Sphinx yesterday morning. Ambrosio was happy to see him.”

“I heard the poor dear cried, he was so happy.”

“Yes, Ambrosio and I both.”

“Are you two still together?”

“Yes,” Marco answered. “We’re engaged, actually.” 

“How beautiful,” Honeydew said, clasping her hands together in joy. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.”

“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me with the decorations,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in a fit of embarrassment. “It’s been three years in the making, and I want it to be perfect.”

“Of course!” Honeydew exclaimed. “I’d love to! I’m sure everyone here would love to help you out, Marco. You do so much for us,and you keep us all so safe.”

“Thank you. It means a lot to me, yoi.” 

“Tell me, was he one of Whitebeard’s men?”

“Yes.”

“Then I know he must be a good man,” she said, and Marco had to force down the spite he felt at Teach’s betrayal down.

The two talked for a while longer before Marco wished her well, relieved to see how great she was doing both physically as well as emotionally. He hurried on home, excited to see how Ambrosio’s day had gone. He’d barely closed the door behind him when he noticed a shift in the atmosphere, and not for the better.

“Where’s your papa?” he asked, noticing that Ambrosio sat alone at the kitchen table doing his school work. 

“He went in my room,” Ambrosio said, taking a bite of his tamago sando. How Ace had gotten him to eat eggs in any way, shape or form remained a mystery. “He seemed upset, but wouldn’t say what about.”

“Ace,” he called out, opening the door to Ambrosio’s bedroom to see the other man sitting on top of their son’s smaller bed, holding the white and blue checkered bear that Honeydew had sewn for him. “What’s wrong?”

“We have a problem,” he said, not bothering to meet Marco’s concerned gaze. 

“What problem?” Marco asked, shutting the door so that Ambrosio couldn’t overhear their conversation. 

“I talked to Quill when I went to go pick Ambrosio up, but it got off track fast...”

“How so?”

“He recognized me, Marco. He recognized the tattoo on my arm. He realized that my name matched the one on my _ grave_. Ambrosio has my family name,” he said with a huff, clutching the bear close to his chest. “He knows that I’m Rogers’ _ son _.”

Marco’s blood ran cold at that. Quill was a former pirate himself, he would be familiar with Whitebeard’s crew even if he wasn’t apart of it. The man had only returned after his father was killed at sea, abandoning that life in order to come home to help take care of his mother as his twin brother sat in Impel Down. 

“I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow, yoi. He won’t say a word about any of this. He’s a reasonable man.”

“Did you kiss him?” Ace asked, his gaze locked on Marco’s now.

“He kissed me over a year ago after a night of drinking, yoi,” he said, approaching the other man. “I turned him down.”

“Am I keeping you from finally moving on, Marco?”

“Ace, don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Don’t _ say _that.You know it’s not true.”

“If I’d stayed dead, you would have been able to find love—”

“No, I _ wouldn’t _have,” Marco argued, dropping to his knees in front of the other man. “I’ve never been close to having what I had with you, yoi. I accepted the fact that that part of my life ended the moment you died.”

Ace began to cry then, and the only thing Marco could do was hold him. They remained that way for a long time. 

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll help Ambrosio with his school work while you take a nice, long bath. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ace said after taking a moment to collect himself. 

Marco pressed a kiss to the top of Ace’s head, then and only then did he move away from him. He opened the door, glancing back briefly at the man he loved most in the world with the conviction that he would make things right, one way or another. 

“I’ll work it out, yoi. Don’t worry.”

“I know.”

  


Ace put Ambrosio to bed again that night, crawling into bed as Marco waited up for him. The blonde removed his glasses, setting them aside on the nightstand where he seemed to place everything. 

“What bedtime stories do you tell him?” he asked, rolling over onto his side so that his chest pressed up against Ace’s back. 

“A story about three brothers who were raised in East Blue by a bunch of Mountain Bandits.” 

Marco chuckled at that, pressing a kiss to the nape of Ace’s neck. “Sounds like an intriguing story,” he said, settling an arm across Ace’s waist like an anchor. “No wonder he loves it so much.”

“Maybe too much,” Ace said with a long suffering sigh. “He wants siblings now.”

“Maybe when he’s older.”

“You’d really want more kids, Marco?”

“Ambrosio’s a blessing in and of itself, but they're a lot of children who need homes in this world.”

“I...wouldn’t mind,” Ace said, intertwining their fingers together.

“I think a girl would be nice,yoi.”

“What would you name her?”

“Well, we’ve got an ‘a’ already,” he said,thinking. “An ‘m’ or an ‘r’ might be nice.”

“An ‘r’?”

“For Rouge,” and Rogers went left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me ;-;


	9. Chapter 9

The following morning, Marco got Ambrosio up and ready as Ace slept in. He wanted to talk to Quill as soon as possible, and he didn't want Ace to suffer the way he had the day prior. He knew that while Ace carried on as normal, that his doubts and fears about their safety still remained. 

“Papa still not feeling well?” Ambrosio asked as they approached the coral-colored building up ahead. 

“He just needs to get some rest, yoi,” Marco said. 

“I’ll make him a get well card like we did for Clementine’s mom!”

“I think your papa would really appreciate that.”

Quill was standing by the front door per usual, welcoming the children in one by one with the same easygoing smile he always wore. “Hello, Ambrosio. How are you doing this morning?” he asked. 

“Good!” Ambrosio exclaimed, hanging off of Marco’s arm like a monkey. It wasn’t his fault that his father happened to be so tall. “I’m going to make my papa a get well card!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that your papa's not feeling so well,” Quill said.

“Don’t worry! Dad says he just needs some sleep!” the boy declared, turning back to look at Marco as he jumped up and down. 

Marco chuckled, leaning forward as he pressed a kiss to the top of Ambrosio’s head. It was a ritual he’d witnessed Marco do with Ace over time, and thus, demanded kisses of his own. “I’ll be here to pick you up later this afternoon,” he promised. 

“Okay. Love you, dad!”

“Love you, too, Ambrosio.”

Ambrosio went inside after that, singing some song he’d learned from his fellow classmates as he went. Marco straightened his spine at that, all business as he met Quill’s even stare. A demure smile gracing his lips.

“I think we should talk later, Quill,” he said, respectful as ever. “Will you be at the diner later this evening?”

“I think that would be a good idea, Marco. Yeah, I come in around eight-thirty to help Marlow and Alba close up.”

“I’ll meet you there around nine.”

“I’ll see you then,” Quill said. “Please tell Ace that I hope he feels better. I’ll make sure that Ambrosio doesn’t forget his card.”

  


Marco made his rounds, making housecalls before heading off to the small building that used to be, of all things, a gun and ammo shop. As it stood now; however, it was a place for him to store and work on things he couldn’t otherwise at home. For example, the autoimmune suppressant he was in the process of replicating for Luna. A lovely young woman who used to tend to her family’s orange groves before the arthritis forced her to hand over those responsibilities to her younger brother, Elio. Marco worked diligently on that until it was time for him to go and pick Ambrosio up.

Along the way, he stopped by Mirabelle’s flower stand that she ran after retiring from her life as a pirate. She wore a forget-me-not in her short, curly blonde hair that remained pinned to one side in a loose bun. She looked both radiant as well as happy. 

“What can I get for you, Marco?” she asked, her lips painted a soft shade of pink.

“I’ll take some hibiscus flowers, please,” he said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. 

“You know you’re money’s no good here,” she said, handing him a bouquet of red hibiscus mixed in with white anthuriums. A beautiful design he’d never seen before from her, he figured it must have been something new she’d put together. 

“This is too much not to pay for,” he argued.

“And my sister's wounds were too severe not to have died from,” she shot back.

Marco knew when to concede. “Thank you, Mirabelle,” he said. “I’m sure Ace will love them.”

“Ace, huh? That the fiancé everyone’s seen but little ol’ me?”

“That would be him, yes,” he said, “and you’re not the only one. Honeydew has yet to meet him, too.”

“Am I apart of this wedding decoration team?”

“Of course,” Marco said with a gentle smile. “I need both of you helping me with this.”

“Good. Honeydew’s excited,” she said. “The last wedding we worked on was hers, and well, you know how that turned out.”

“I assure you that Ace is nothing like that _ man_,” Marco said with a sneer. It was clear that no one missed Claude, nor did they mention his name if it could be helped. “I look forward to spending the rest of my life with him.” 

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, go on. Go get your son and take your mystery love those flowers. Tell me what he thinks of ‘em!”

Marco kept his word, picking Ambrosio up without incident before returning home. He was surprised to find Ace in the kitchen singing and dancing as he cooked something up that smelled absolutely divine.

“It smells good in here, papa! What are you making?” Ambrosio asked before Marco could.

“Camarão no leite de coco,” he answered. “It’s shrimp with coconut sauce.”

“What do you serve it with?” Ambrosio asked, trying to get a better look without much success on his part. 

“The way Makino taught me, I serve it with rice,” he said. “I also made coconut flan for dessert.”

“Say it the way you said it before!”

“Pudim de leite de coco.”

“We’re having dessert, dad!” Ambrosio cheered, hugging Ace as the other man picked him up and spun the boy around, laughing. 

“We are,” Marco noted. 

“I made you a get well card at school today! It’s got you, me and daddy on it. I added some hearts, cats and dogs, too, because they’re really cute!”

“Oh, wow! Thank you, _ Brosi _! I love it!” Ace exclaimed, setting Ambrosio up on the counter that faced the sink and kitchen window, studying the card in depth. 

“Dad got you flowers!”

“Oh, did he now?” Ace asked, peering over his shoulder at Marco with a small smile. 

“I did,” Marco said, handing Ace the bouquet save a single red hibiscus flower that he tucked behind the brunette’s ear. 

He would never mention his similarity to Rouge in that moment. Maybe one day. 

“You look pretty, papa! Clementine wears flowers in her hair sometimes, too!”

“Would you like a flower in your hair, Brosi?” Ace asked.

“Yes, please!” Marco happily complied. “I’m pretty, too, now!”

“You’re always pretty,” Marco said. 

Marco helped Ambrosio to set the kitchen table, and then the three of them settled down to eat; the smell of shrimp, coconut, basil and red jalapenos enticing their senses. The blonde found that there was nothing he enjoyed more than coming home to the man he loved, and the son that they shared between them. 

“This is delicious, Ace,” he said. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”

“I don’t know a lot, but Makino taught me a few dishes back at the bar,” he said with a shrug. “Dadan wasn’t going to do it. Instant ramen was more her thing.” 

Marco laughed at that. “Thatch would be proud,” he noted, enjoying a piece of flan. 

Ace blushed at the comment as he muttered a simple, “Thanks.”

Marco and Ambrosio cleaned up afterwards, but if he was going to make it to the diner on time, he would need to be leaving soon. He ran a bath for Ambrosio first, making sure that the child actually got into it, amused that he was already making a massive mess of bubbles right away. 

Ace was laying on their bed, reading something with a scrunched up expression to his nose. It was adorable beyond words. The blonde couldn’t get over how much he loved him; how much he would always love him. 

“I’m going to go meet Quill at the diner, yoi,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to Ace’s cheek. “Ambrosio’s in the bath, but you can’t trust him for long in there by himself.” 

Ace hummed a little at that. “At least he doesn’t scream bloody murder like Luffy used to,” he said with an affectionate snort. 

“Fair.” 

“What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“I shouldn’t be that long, yoi,” he said, buttoning up his shirt as he searched for his other sandal. “I just want to clear the air with him.”

“You’re not going to kill him, right?”

Marco had admittedly thought about it once or twice, no matter how cordial and nice Quill generally was. “No,” he said, studying Ace’s face for any hint as to how he felt about that. “I won’t go that far, yoi.”

“And if he’s not willing to listen to what you have to say?”

“I can get him off the island without harming him, yoi.”

Ace left it at that, and Marco took off into the dreary, rainy night, umbrella in hand. It hadn’t rained in weeks, he noted. The island could definitely use it. 

They all could, he thought. 

  


Marlow, the cook, greeted Marco with his usual two-finger salute. “Yo,” he said, sharpening one of his kitchen knives. Or what Marco hoped was a kitchen knife. 

Marlow was a short man, young but gruff looking from years of rough living and heavy drinking. He’d lost his left eye in a brawl a few years back. Marco had healed him as best as he could, and urged him to do better for himself. Of course, the man continued to drink like a fish, but he at least started after twelve in the afternoon. He did; however, choose to stop getting into bar fights and got a job at the Twizzler instead. 

Alba, the only waitress besides Quill himself on occasion, ushered him to sit at his usual booth. The girl had barely turned eighteen with hair as white as freshly fallen snow, but she also had two young girls to look after since her parents left on a merchant trip and never came back. She was overall healthy and pleasant, but she could curse a man twice her age to hell and back, pirate or not. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. It’s Marco,” she greeted, one hand propped on her hip. “You’re here awfully late, mister. What can I get for ya?”

Marco gave her a small smile in lew of greeting. “I’m supposed to meet Quill here,” he said. “I’ve already ate, but I’ll take whatever tea you have left.”

“Oolong it is,” she said. “I’ll go grab Quill from the back.”

“Thank you.”

After a moment, Quill came out from the back, two cups of tea balanced precariously in either hand. He took a seat across from Marco, looking tired beyond compare. Marco could only imagine how exhausting it must be to watch a group of young children all day to then turn around and spend late nights at the Twizzler. 

Why he named it that remained an ever elusive mystery, but legend had it that Quill took a liking to the candy on his trips abroad and brought an abundance back home with him that he’d buried somewhere safe. 

“So, I guess this is where we discuss Ambrosio’s other father, huh?”

Marco gave a curt nod at that. “Yes,” he said.

“I’m trying to understand how a man that’s been dead for over three years comes back from the grave,” he said, taking a small sip of his tea. 

“That makes two of us then, yoi.”

“Was he really even _ dead_?”

Marco sighed, removing his glasses as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a growing headache. “Yes,” he said. “I was there when we buried him.”.

“The scar that goes from his back to his front...that was the killing blow Akainu landed on him, wasn’t it?”

Marco nodded. “_ Yes _,” he whispered. 

“When you say he arrived at Sphinx, what you really mean is that he returned to the land of the living, correct?”

“Yes.”

Quill shook his head, slender fingers running through his dark hair. “Did you make a deal or something, Marco?” he asked, concerned etched into his features. “Sell your soul?”

“I think that would make more sense, yoi, but no,” he said, tapping a finger against the ceramic tea cup in his hand. “Ace isn’t even sure how or why he was sent back here. All I know is that he can never leave this island, now or ever.”

“He can’t travel beyond here? Has he tried?”

“No, but he’s adamant that he can’t,” Marco said. “I presume it’s because this is his final resting place, but I’m not sure, yoi.”

“So, his grave is the one placed besides Whitebeard’s? He’s the one you couldn’t forget about...the one you told me about that night?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, Marco,” Quill said, setting his cup down with a loud clatter. “This is weird. It’s...beyond weird, actually.”

“Trust me when I say that I know.”

“And Ambrosio?” he asked. “I mean, he looks like you in some ways, yes, but there’s no denying that he looks _ a lot _like Ace. The hair, the freckles, his skin tone, but he’s got your eyes, your lips and a lot of your personality.” 

“That’s even more complicated.” 

“He’s both of yours, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” he said. “He is.”

“He recognized Ace right away when he came back.”

“Wherever Ace was, that’s where Ambrosio came to be, yoi,” Marco said, lacing his fingers together in front of him as he stared at the other man with an openness he wouldn’t otherwise show. “He showed up on my doorstep one night, and gave me his name. I knew right away that he wasn’t lying. He looks exactly like Ace, but he does have my eyes, too.”

“I didn’t mean to upset him the other day. I just made a sudden connection between the things I saw and the things I knew to be fact.” 

“I know, yoi. Ace is just worried that word will get out about him or Ambrosio, and that the World Government will be after him again. Or worse, after Ambrosio. He _ is _the Pirate King's son, and everyone knows that now.”

“And by extension, that makes Ambrosio the Pirate King's grandson.”

Marco bit his lip at that, his nerves shot at even the _ thought _that Ambrosio could come to harm over something as ridiculous as his bloodline. As though that would somehow determine who he’d become in life. 

“Yes...”

“He doesn’t know who you two are beyond just being his parents, does he?”

“No,” Marco admitted.

“Look, your secret’s safe with me. Fuck the World Government, they’re nothing but lapdogs for those Mariejois fucks anyway,” Quill said, and it was the most Marco had ever heard the man curse before, “but sooner or later, Ambrosio’s going to learn who you and Ace are. You might want to tell him first.”

“I’ve been thinking about it, yoi,” he said. “I just don’t know how or when to bring it up. I’ve told him stories about Whitebeard and his crew, but I’ve yet to tell him that Ace and I were a part of that crew, too. As far as he knows, I’m just a doctor who treats and heals people, and Ace is his papa who plays, cares for and loves him.”

“You can be and do all those things and be pirates, too. I know my parents were,” Quill said, “and I hope to be, too. Someday.” 

  


Marco left soon after that, thanking Quill for both his time and the tea. He bid Alba and Marlow goodnight before he headed back towards home. A place that he wanted to come back to now that Ace and their son were there to welcome him. 

He hadn’t been to Pops’ grave in a while, but he would try to do so the following evening. 

He opened and closed the door as gently as possible, undoing the buttons to his dress shirt as he went. The lamp situated on their nightstand was still shining brightly, but Ace was passed out, the book he’d been reading laid out on the bed beside him. Marco picked it up, giving it a once over. He noted that it was an introductory to woodworking with a page on shelf building bookmarked. No wonder the poor dear had fallen fast asleep he thought with a soft laugh, tossing his shirt into the dirty clothes basket. 

He plopped down onto his side of the bed, undoing the laces of his sandals before making himself comfortable. He spooned Ace from behind, pulling him closer to him.

“Marco?”

“Who else would it be, yoi?” he asked with a low chuckle. 

“How’d it go?”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Marco said. “Quill won’t say anything, and he apologized for upsetting you.”

Ace shook his head, but Marco could feel small tremors wracking throughout his person. He realized that Ace was crying.

“What’s wrong, yoi?”

“I told him,” he said, choking on his own words. “I told him about Rogers.”

“Ace,” he murmured, tucking his chin into the crook of the other’s neck as he ran his fingers through dark, curly hair. 

“I told him how and why I died, Marco,” he said. “I told him everything.”

“You told him how we met?” he asked. “How we fell in love, yoi?”

Ace laughed a little at that. “He asked me about it,” he said, “and so I told him.”

“What did he think about Rogers?”

“He didn’t care all that much, honestly. Didn’t care that he was the Pirate King or that his death ushered in a whole new era. All he said was how sorry he was that I died for nothing more than being some man’s son.” 

“He sounds like me when you first told me who you were,” Marco said, kissing the side of Ace’s neck. 

“He _ always _ sounds like you,” Ace argued. “He might _ look _ a lot like me, Marco, and we might have a lot of the same tendencies, but he’s a lot like you. He’s smart, perceptive, and easy going. _ He loves me no matter what_.” 

“We both love you, Ace. We both need you, yoi.”

“I keep having these nightmares,” he said. “I keep dreaming that I’m back at Marineford again, but it’s not me. It’s _ him _ . It’s Ambrosio in my place. Dying. Smiling to try and comfort me even though it’s all _ my _fault for existing in the first place.”

“The World Government doesn’t take notice of this island, yoi. It’s small and it’s poor, and the people here could never afford to pay the Heavenly Tribute. There’s more money moving around, yeah, but this island was under Pops’ protection, and now it’s under _ my _protection. I love and take care of these people, yoi, and in return, they love and take care of me. They’ll love and take care of you and Ambrosio, too. They already do.”

Ace rolled over then, facing Marco as he trailed a thumb along one of the blonde’s prominent cheekbones. “I can’t wait to finally get to marry you,” he said, his mist gray eyes shimmering bright.

“Mmm,” Marco hummed, his eyes slipping loosely shut at the other’s ministrations. “I can’t wait to actually see you all dressed up, yoi.”

Ace chuckled at that, slapping Marco’s shoulder playfully before snuggling closer to the blonde, entangling their limbs together. “I’m going to build that fucking pantry,” he said, yawning. “Just you wait and see.”


	10. Chapter 10

A total of two and a half months would come to pass before their wedding came to fruition. Flint and Daffodil built a large pillar on the beach while Mirabelle and Honeydew decorated the ash wood with red hibiscus and white anthurium flowers threaded together with ribbons crafted out of gold. Quill, Alba and Marlow served all the food and drinks, enough to fill a Giants stomach. Luna and Elio carved all of the fruit into intricate designs, using most of their own produce in order to do so. Clover and Jade had worked long and hard on all three of their suits, and then some. 

Marco felt both ridiculous and nervous standing under a high canopy of white, gold and silver. The black and white suit with red accessories felt comfortable enough, but the morning was humid and unforgiving. Ambrosio stood to his left, his dark hair combed back for once in his life. He looked adorable in his white dress shirt, black slacks, red suspenders and matching bow tie. 

Marco couldn’t help but notice the tiny scar that bisected through his right eyebrow. He and Clementine had been jumping up and down on his bed when the boy fell off, catching the corner of his dresser when he did so. Marco had come home to see Ace scolding him, hand propped up on his hip and everything. 

He smiled, thinking back on the time they’d spent together here. Marco wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. He didn’t know how he got here, and he wasn’t going to start questioning it now. 

“Dad, you look nervous,” Ambrosio said, grinning up at him. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted.

“Why? It’s just papa.”

Marco wanted to answer, but a loud series of cheers and clapping caught his attention beforehand. Cristobal and Cybill began playing the violin, a talent the blonde didn’t know the two shared until just a week prior. He turned to look down the aisle just in time to see Ace walking towards him. 

He wore a crimson suit tailored like a second skin with a black dress shirt and matching shoes. A lone hibiscus flower sat tucked behind his ear. Marco felt like he might faint, trying to focus on his breathing and the man standing before him all at the same time. 

Willow, an elderly woman and the de facto mayor of the island, had agreed to marry them. A tall, slender woman, she looked more like a Victorian aged countess than a mayor in charge of a small island such as this. The woman was a walking, talking thesaurus with a massive collection of books she encouraged everyone to read, friend and foe alike. 

She took an instant liking to Ambrosio and his love for reading after Marco had introduced the two. 

Ace took the opportunity to fix Ambrosio’s bow tie while Willow got started, and Marco knew then that there was nothing to fear. The two of them had been through so much, and if death itself couldn’t keep them apart, nothing ever would. 

“The ring?” Willow asked, her blue eyes the same color as the ocean that loomed behind them.

“One sec!” Ambrosio exclaimed, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he dug around in one of his pants pockets. He pulled out one golden wedding band that belonged to Marco, and then a second one attached to a gold chain that belonged to Ace. “I didn’t forget them!”

“Very good, Ambrosio,” Willow said with a huff of laughter. “Marco, if you would please.”

Marco took ahold of the chain, placing it over Ace’s head, mindful of his hair and the flower that decorated it. He tucked it into his suit, careful to make sure it was situated perfectly against his chest. Ace’s smile could easily have melted him from the inside out. 

“Ace, your turn.”

“Whoops,” Ace said with a nervous laugh. “I was too busy staring at him.”

“You’ve got the rest of your life to do that, kid!” Mirabelle shouted, leering at the two of them as Honeydew simply shook her head in distress. 

“I look forward to it,” Ace said, winking as he placed the band on Marco’s ring finger with trembling hands.

At least Marco wasn’t the only one who was nervous. 

“You look so handsome, yoi.”

Ace’s cheeks filled with warmth at that. “You, too,” he said.

“Well, gentlemen. You better seal the deal with a kiss, don’t you think?” Willow asked, one of her thin brows raised high. 

Marco chuckled as Ace grabbed him by the tops of his shoulders, reaching up onto the tips of his toes as the blonde met him halfway in a tender kiss. Ace’s eyes were still shut when Marco pulled back, dark lashes fluttering against sun-kissed freckled cheeks. He couldn’t help but smile and kiss him again, ignoring the cheers and whistles of those around them. 

Ambrosio spent the better part of the party running around and playing with his friends. Marco watched as both he, Clementine and Hawke explored the ruins that spanned across the shoreline. He could only laugh and drink as everyone congratulated them, and then congratulated them again. 

“Oh, Marco! Oh, Ace! You both look so handsome all dressed up like that,” Honeydew said, looking gorgeous herself in an off the shoulder sheer white dress. “I hope you liked the decorations.”

“We loved them!” Ace exclaimed, embracing the woman before taking his seat besides Marco. “Mirabelle and you did an excellent job.” 

Ace and Honeydew had become quite close following her return to the school. Marco would drop Ambrosio off in the mornings while Ace would pick both him and Clementine up in the afternoons. Honeydew helped the both of them a lot when it came to parenting their ever growing son. She even consoled Ace after Ambrosio had lost his first tooth, which Marco found to be hilarious. They placed a couple beli under his pillow, and called it a day. 

Unfortunately, Ambrosio took this as an opportunity to try and knock out _ all _of his teeth for financial gain, much too Ace’s furry and Marco’s abject terror. They’d had a long talk after that.

“You two are going to honeymoon at that cottage you fixed up right, Marco?” Mirabelle asked, a glass of wine in each hand. 

“Yes, Honeydew agreed to look after Ambrosio for a couple of days so we can relax.”

“Hard to do with a five almost six year old,” she said. “Try doing it with twins.”

“No thanks,” Ace said, shaking his head as he reached for more pork. “One’s enough.”

“I was wondering when Ambrosio’s sixth birthday is,” Honeydew said, and Marco realized that he didn’t know. 

“November thirteenth,” Ace said, taking another large bite of food.

Marco could only tilt his head just so, and stare at the other man, curious as to how he knew that. Ace gave him a look that promised to tell him later. The blonde would see to it that he kept that promise. 

“Oh, my! That’s less than two months away!” she exclaimed. “Clementine turns five in December.”

Marco and Ace spent the remainder of the reception chatting with the other guests, eating and drinking. By sunset, they were more than ready to retire to the cottage on the other side of the island, safe and sound beyond the waterfall. Honeydew took Ambrosio, but not before Quill could take multiple photographs of the couple alone and together with their son. 

“I’ll make sure to develop these tonight and get them back to you when I can,” he said.

“Thank you,” Ace said, waving at the other man as everyone began to disperse. “That was nice of him.” 

“He’s pretty good at photography,” Marco noted, smiling as Ace removed his suit, taking it off as he undid the top few buttons of his dress shirt. 

Marco had done away with his less than thirty minutes after they’d taken their vows. It really was a humid day. 

Ace came to a sudden stop, and Marco followed him. “What’s up, yoi?” he asked. 

“Marco, I’m so happy right now. I’ve got you, and we’ve got him. Promise to take good care of us,” he said, grinning from ear-to-ear. 

That damn smile of his was infectious, Marco determined as he grabbed Ace by either side of his face, kissing him hard on the mouth. “I promise you with my life, yoi,” he said, kissing Ace again for the fifth time as his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're married and Brosi's growing ;-;


	11. Chapter 11

The cottage Marco had renovated was a quaint one bedroom affair painted a sky blue with white trim. The inside included a small kitchen, a full bath and a queen sized bed. The floors, counters, tables and even the bed frame were crafted from oak, sanded down and polished to a shine. 

“Marco, this is really nice,” Ace said, dropping his overnight bag down on top of the mattress. 

Marco preened at that, but kept his reaction minimal. “It gave me something to do,” he said. 

“I want to go swimming sometime tomorrow,” he said. “The river’s crystal clear and calm.”

“You can now, yoi,” Marco noted, embracing Ace from behind. 

“I’m glad. I really missed being able to swim.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked, watching as Ace turned around to press a hungry kiss to his lips. “Your flames, I mean?”

“A little, at first,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around Marco’s neck, “but nowhere near as much as I thought I would.” 

“That’s understandable.”

“Hey, Marco,” Ace said, staring at the blonde’s mouth with open interest. “We should take a shower and go to bed.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Marco turned on the hot water, striping out of the rest of his clothes before helping Ace to do the same. Ace got in first, dragging Marco in immediately behind him. A kiss turned into twenty as Marco took to washing Ace’s body, enjoying the touch and feel of him all over again. 

“I thought trying to have sex in peace on the Moby was difficult,” Ace said, gasping as Marco nipped at the sensitive flesh of his throat, “but kids are real cock blocks, you know? It’s like they’ve got a sixth sense for when adults are trying to fuck.” 

Marco couldn’t help but laugh at the other’s plight, never mind the fact that he felt the same way. “I’ve been looking forward to this, yoi,” he admitted. 

“Me-me, too,” Ace stuttered, pulling Marco closer to him as he stole a lingering kiss. “I want to be as loud as I want.” 

The pair made their way back to the bed, though Marco didn’t really remember the _ how _of it. His attention dedicated solely on touching and kissing Ace all over. Ace let out a soft, drawn out moan when Marco took his cock in hand, teasing him with fleeting touches and gentle strokes. 

“Marco, don’t draw it out,” Ace cried out, pulling the blonde down for another harsh, near starving kiss. “_ Please_.”

Marco decided to take pity on the other man, coating his fingers with lube as Ace spread his quivering thighs. Ace bit down on his bottom lip, grinding his hips as Marco slid a single finger deep inside him. He pressed tender kisses and searing bites across Ace’s chest, enjoying the other’s sharp cries. 

The whimper Ace let loose when Marco added a second finger inside him made the blonde want to lose all control right then, right there, his fingers curling up as he set a brutal pace. It reminded him of the first time they’d done this, the day Marco had taken the boy’s virginity. The same day Ace said Ambrosio was born...

“Ace, Ambrosio’s birthday...”

“The, ah, the bird wanted to know when we’d first been intimate. I told him, and then the next thing I know, Ambrosio’s standing right in front of me,” he said, sucking in a deep breath as Marco added a third and final digit. “I didn’t understand _ why _he decided to make Ambrosio that age, but it’s not like any of it made much sense to begin with.”

“When did Ambrosio come to you?”

“Time’s not really, really a concept there, but you had placed more than one bouquet on my grave so it must have been my birthday.”

“He spent six months with you before he was sent down to me?”

The thought was disconcerting, to say the least, and Marco didn’t pretend to understand any of it, but he let it go. Ambrosio’s existence would always remain a mystery, but the blonde would never question it. He had a son, and that was all that mattered. 

“Marco, please.” Ace begged, hair clinging to his temples, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

The man looked like the inception of sin itself, and Marco’s inherent lust could only soar. He made sure to properly stretch Ace, ignoring the brunette’s cries of discontent. Marco would never intentionally hurt him in that way, and Ace knew it; appreciated it _ most _of the time. 

“You’re relentless when you get like this, yoi,” he huffed, removing his fingers as he slicked up his cock. “You never change.”

“Does that mean you’re going to give in, and fuck me?”

“Absolutely.”

The laugh Ace let out quickly morphed into a loud moan as Marco lined up with his entrance and slowly pressed in. Ace wrapped his legs around Marco’s waist, yanking the blonde down for a kiss consisting mostly of teeth and tongue as he bottomed out. Marco groaned as Ace tightening down around him, pulling out before thrusting back in.

“Oh, fuck,” Ace whined, his back arching as Marco picked up the pace, driving into his pliant body the way he knew Ace liked it. “_ Marco _!”

“I’ve missed this, yoi,” Marco said, words murmured against the side of Ace’s neck, the brunette’s hips grinding down to meet his every thrust. 

“Shit, shit, _ shit_!” Ace cursed, clutching the sheets beneath him, his head thrown back against his pillow. 

Marco took Ace’s cock in his hand, jerking him off in tandem with each of his thrusts. The way Ace trembled and moaned sprawled out underneath him always made Marco lose his well maintained control, pinning the brunette’s wrists above his head. He watched every shudder, every emotion that danced across Ace’s face, his cheeks flushed, bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. 

“Fuck, Marco! Can’t, won’t—”

“Then come for me, Ace,” he ordered, taking a carnal sort of pleasure in watching as Ace’s body obeyed, ass clenching down around his cock as he came in between their bodies. “Good boy, Ace.” 

“_ Ha_!”

Marco didn’t last much longer, but he enjoyed fucking Ace in his over sensitized state anyway, filling his body up with everything he had; years worth of torment and agony and constant wondering fading away. Ace went lax underneath him, and so Marco took the time to roll over and onto his back beside him. He grabbed one of the towels they’d discarded earlier, taking his time in cleaning Ace thoroughly. 

Once finished, he returned to Ace’s side, chuckling as the other man slid on top of him, his face resting in the crook of Marco’s neck. “First time fucking as a married couple,” he murmured, skimming his teeth along Marco’s jawline. 

“Very poetic, yoi.”

“I liked it,” he said. “Then again, I like it any time we have sex.”

“My ego thanks you.”

“We can actually sleep naked again,” he said, helping Marco to strip and remake the bed.

“I want you naked as much as possible on this trip, yoi,” Marco said, settling down beside Ace as they shared a thin blanket between them, too hot for anything else. 

“I can definitely do that for you, _ dirty _old man,” Ace said with a laugh, pulling Marco close as their lips met in the darkness of the night. 

“What would you like for breakfast, _ brat_?”

“You.”

Marco rolled his eyes as he shook his head. “And I’m the dirty one, yoi?” he asked. 

“Hey, everything I’ve learned, I learned from you. Take responsibility.” 

“I’ll make you regret those words, yoi.”

Marco could feel the smirk Ace wore against his bare shoulder. “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said. 

  
  


Marco took great pleasure in waking Ace up with his mouth on the younger man’s cock. Ace eagerly reached his hand under the blanket, threading his fingers through the blonde’s disheveled hair. Ace could never resist the urge to buck his hips, trying to coax the other into taking him deeper than before. 

“Ha, fuck, Marco!” he whimpered, struggling to hold still as Marco swallowed him down from tip to base, fondling his balls in between. 

Ace loved when Marco went down on him, and the blonde felt it was only appropriate to begin their first full day as newly weds giving him something he knew Ace would truly love. A nice change from trying to get Ambrosio up, fed and out the door on time. 

“Let me—”

“I’m going to go start breakfast, yoi,” Marco said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand,

“No, you’re not!” Ace argued, pulling Marco back down as he climbed on top of the blonde’s lap, peering down at him with a predatory gaze. “You’re going to lie here and take whatever it is I give you.” 

Marco could only chuckle as Ace attacked his mouth and throat, his hands sliding down over the blonde’s chest as he rutted against him shamelessly. Ace ended up riding him before they showered once more. Then and only then did Marco start on breakfast, having made sure to stock the kitchen beforehand. He decided to make baked eggs and sausage with a side of tiramisu crepes for something sweet to eat, and espresso to drink. Ace scarfed it all down just as he always did, and Marco couldn’t help but to be flattered by it.

“This is so, so good, Marco,” he said, shoveling a piece of egg into his mouth.

Marco’s lips curled into a soft smirk, taking small sips of his coffee as he ate at a much slower pace. “So, swimming after this, I presume?” he asked, recalling Ace’s words from the previous night. 

“Yes!” Ace exclaimed. “I’ve got these tiny shorts I want to torture you with.”

Marco chuckled at that, cleaning up as Ace got ready. Whatever that meant. They headed down to a shaded area with large trees and smooth boulders along the river's edge. Ace wasted no time jumping in, multi color stripes of his bottoms stretched across his ass was the last thing Marco saw as he laid out a thick blanket on the soft grass, appreciating the clear sky and bright sun that greeted them. 

“Marco, this is _ amazing _! The water feels great!” Ace whooped, splashing around as Marco split his time between Ace’s antics and the book he was reading—one of the rare few that weren’t related to his work in any way, shape or form. 

“Trying to make me jealous, yoi?” he asked with an upturn of his lips.

“Depends, is it working?”

“_ Nope_,” Marco said, barely dodging Ace splashing water in his general direction. 

Ace must have swam for at least two hours, but neither one of them were counting. The first thing Marco noticed when Ace stalked out of the water was how those short shorts of his clung to him like a second skin. The second thing the blonde took note of was how _ hot _Ace looked dripping wet, each drop of water leaving an enticing trail across both of his pectorals, every abdominal muscle, and the sharp V of his hips. 

Marco had a hell of a time trying to keep his hands to himself, and his tongue from lolling out. Ace didn’t fully comprehend the image he cultivated, and it could torture any man, pure of heart or not, and Marco was most definitely not pure of heart. If anything, Marco proved to be a sort of Dr. Frankenstein, and Ace, his well-chiseled monster. 

An attractive, impulsive monster, but a monster nonetheless. 

“You look good like that, yoi. All wet and disheveled,” he said, a smirk hinged on the corner of his lips, tongue trailing across his bottom lip just so.

Ace wasn’t the only one who could play this game. He _ had _taught him, after all.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me, then.”

Marco felt grateful that there were no prying eyes out and about where they were, considering Ace made it a game to ride the blonde for all that he was worth—again. Exhibitionism aside, Ace demanded that they spend the next four days in bed simply enjoying each other’s existence. Marco knew he was in no position to refute him, husband or not. 

A brief, quiet honeymoon was all that a pirate like Marco could ever hope for. The fact that it had come true made him think about all those before him that had, and never would, get the chance to do as they had done. A small ache lingered in his core where Thatch and Izo were concerned. Thatch would never be coming back, and Marco knew that. Explaining such a concept to Izo would feel akin to a thousand stab wounds, but he would try. 

With Ace beside him, Marco would try. 

“I miss Ambrosio,” Ace said, nose pressed into the crook of Marco’s bare throat. Tonight was the last of their honeymoon. “Does that make me sound like a pansy?”

“Missing your child?”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely not, yoi.”

“I’m sure Honeydew’ll be glad to hand him back over.”

“She might even demand compensation of some sort,” Marco said, chuckling as he pressed a soft kiss into Ace’s loose curls. “Depending upon the damage he’s left in his wake.”

“Hmm, true.”

“Just try and get some rest, yoi. We have a lot to do starting tomorrow.”

  
“I _ know._” Ace whined, petulant in only a way that he could muster. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The honeymoon these two dorks deserve
> 
> Up next: the unexpected, expected visitor...


	12. Chapter 12

A month would come to pass before a late night visitor knocked on Marco and Ace’s front door. Ace laid awake in bed, reading yet another book on wooden fixtures after his first foray had gone disastrously wrong. Ambrosio was fast asleep, or playing with his toys, it was hard to tell at that point. Marco, himself, had been fast asleep after catching up on his work, but he knew this visit to be an important one. He took a deep, calming breath before finding the strength to open the front door.

“_ Izo_...”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting. This weather’s atrocious,” the other man said, ruby red lips pulled back into a tight smile as he put away his umbrella. 

“Izo, I’ve got something to show you, yoi, and I don’t...I don’t know how—”

“Izo, it’s me,” Ace said, moving to stand behind Marco lest the other man pull one or both of his guns out on him. 

Izo looked as though he’d seen a ghost, and by all accounts, he had. 

“I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I could have sworn you just said...that Ace just spoke....? That Ace is standing here right before my very eyes...”

“Promise not to shoot me, and I’ll do my best to explain,” Ace said, hands up as Marco stood in front of him, blue flames dancing across his skin.

Izo holsted his guns with a severe look about him. “This better not be some demented joke, Marco,” he said. “I know you wanted me to visit for something urgent, but this...I don’t even know where to begin with _ this_! You wouldn’t, _ couldn’t _ joke about something like _ this_!”

“Well, the surprise I wrote to you about initially is in bed,” Marco said, arms crossed as he allowed Izo entrance into their home. 

“Real surprise?”

“Ambrosio!” Marco shouted. “I know you’re not asleep! Come out here, please!”

A loud grumble came from Ambrosio’s bedroom before the boy made an appearance, dressed in a loose fitting blue tee shirt and baggy green shorts, rubbing at his not-so-tired looking eyes. The boy was an actor, that was for sure. 

“Izo, I want you to meet your nephew, Portgas D. Ambrosio,” Marco said, bringing the boy to stand in front of the other. “Ambrosio, I’d like you to meet one of your uncles, Izo.”

“Uncle?” Ambrosio asked. “He’s dressed like some fancy woman.”

“_ Brat_!” Ace shouted, smacking the small boy across the back of his head. “He dresses how he wants, just like you do!”

“Ace...is it really you?” Izo asked, his attention zoned in on the man in front of him. 

“Yeah, Izo, it’s me,” Ace said, rubbing his hands together. Marco could tell he was beyond nervous.

Izo entered their home, shutting the door behind him. Ambrosio turned on some more lamps so that the other man could see better. The first thing Izo did was to place a hand over Ace’s marred chest, studying the scar left behind from Akainu’s deadly fist. Ace turned around so that the 16th commander could so the same across Ace’s back, studying the disfigured scar that distorted Whitebeard’s mark. 

“You’re...really him. You’re—”

“Alive?”

“How?” Izo asked, choking back on unshed tears. 

“We’re still trying to work that out, yoi,” Marco answered, noticing the way Ace’s shoulders slumped forward. 

“Thatch...Pops...they each had something they wanted to say to you,” Ace said, sitting next to Izo on the sofa as Marco chose to remain standing, Ambrosio in his arms. “I wanted...if you’d listen?”

“I think I need a drink or two first,” Izo admitted. 

“I’ve got you covered on that one,” Marco said, pulling a bottle of potent wine from atop the kitchen cabinet. 

Ace grabbed three glasses as Ambrosio curled up on the other sofa adjacent from them. The boy was obviously tired now, and while Marco felt bad about that, they were going off of Izo’s internal clock, not their own. Ace would more than likely keep the child home from school the following day anyway. 

“He looks just like you,” Izo said, staring at both Ace as well as Marco and then back to Ambrosio again, taking a long draw of wine as he did so. 

“It makes sense,” Ace said, taking a small sip of his own bittersweet drink. “He is ours, as strange as that may seem.”

“You’re a walking, talking dead man...this is all _ very _bizarre already.” 

“Look, Izo,” Ace said, turning to look at the other man head-on. “I don’t understand why, exactly, I’m back. No one does. All I know is that my soul refused to crossover like it should have. I couldn’t. I was stuck in some sort of limbo with an entity who was trying to help me come to peace with everything, but I wouldn’t. I had too much regret.”

“Oh, Ace,” Izo said, his arms draping across Ace’s shoulders as he embraced him. The emerald and gold kimono he wore shimmering under the soft lighting. “I can’t....I watched you _ die_. I saw them bury you next to Pops.”

“I know,” Ace said, his chest heaving as both of them began to breakdown—one by one. “I did. I did die, Izo. I remember it. I remember all of it. I _ feel _it.” 

“How long have you been back?”

“A little over four months now,” Ace said, wiping at his eyes. 

“What’s this?” Izo asked, holding the gold band Ace wore around his neck. 

“We got married, Izo,” Marco said, stroking Ambrosio’s hair as the boy slept soundly on his lap. 

“Married?!” he exclaimed. “You finally said yes?!”

Ace nodded his head, tears still streaming down his face. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I did. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice, you know?”

“You’re alive, you’re married, and you’ve got a son! I can’t...,” Izo paused, taking another gulp, finishing his first glass. “Marco, you never mentioned _ any _of this!”

“Honestly, how could I, yoi?” Marco asked. “Would you have believed me?”

“Absolutely not,” Izo admitted, pouring himself another glass of wine. “I truly would have thought you’d gone and lost it. I would have dragged you from here myself.”

“I’m sorry, Izo,” Marco said. “I really am. I didn’t know how to word, well, any of this.”

“You mentioned Thatch,” Izo said, his voice trembling somewhat, and this had been what Marco had most feared. 

“Thatch and I met before he crossed over,” Ace said, his hands balled into fists as they continued to shake. Marco hated to watch him suffer through all of this. “He chewed me out good for doing what I did on account of him. We talked for what felt like an eternity, Izo. He said he didn’t have any regrets, that he lived the life he wanted to live...and that he was fortunate enough to have met the love of his life when and where he did...”

“Oh, Thatch,” Izo cried, wiping his eyes as his makeup began to smear. “That sweet, sentimental idiot.”

“He said how fortunate he was that he spent his last morning on earth in bed with you. How he’d taken the time off just to stay in and watch you sleep. That the only breakfast he’d made that day was for the two of you,” Ace said, staring down at his lap. “Izo, he loved you more than anything. He never felt embarrassed or unsure how much he cared for you. His only hope was that you wouldn’t close yourself off, become cold like you were when the two of you first met.”

Izo swallowed hard at that. “I’ll never love anyone again,” he said, “but I’m in no way cold. I went back to Wano, I went home. Your brother, he changed everything, you realize? He defeated Kaido, the Kozuki family are back in their rightful place...the borders are open. I’ve worked hard to make sure that the water and food there is fresh and safe to drink and eat. The orphans, so many of them...I look after all of them. O-Tama is a brave and strong and foolish as she always was.” 

“I wish I could see her again.” Ace said with a deep sigh. All Marco wanted to do was hold him then. 

“Why can’t you?”

“Ace can’t leave the island,” Marco said. 

“Why not?” Izo asked, setting his glass down onto the low hanging table, brows furrowed. 

“It’s one of the stipulations,” Ace added. “I can’t leave Sphinx because I was laid to rest here.”

“It’s safer that way,” Marco argued. “No one knows he’s here save a few. The island is under my protection. There’s no government interference.”

“And the boy?”

“Don’t know,” Ace said.

“I don’t see why not,” Marco said, “but we’re in no rush to find out. He’ll grow up here where it’s safe, and when he’s older...than he can decide.” 

“You’re afraid,” Izo accused. 

“Of course I’m afraid,” Marco argued. “You saw what they did to Ace for simply being Rogers’ son. What do you think they would do to his grandson?”

“Marco, calm down,” Ace said, motioning to the sleeping child strewn about the blonde’s lap. “He’s only six years old. We’ve got a long time before he decides what he wants to do with his life...where he wants to be.”

“He knows we’re all pirates, right?” Izo asked, changing what appears to be a rather tumultuous subject between the two.

“He knows that we _ were_, yoi,” Marco said.

“I mean, he was bound to be curious about both of our tattoos at some point,” Ace said. “I told him everything, but that boy will never have to wonder a day in his life as to whether or not he’s loved. It’s all he’s surrounded by.” 

“I feel like this is all some sort of fever induced delusion,” Izo said. “It’s a bit much.”

“I know, yoi,” Marco said. “Trust me.”

“Marco, you’re tired,” Ace said with a tilt of his head. “Why don’t you and Ambrosio go back to bed? I’ll stay up with Izo for a while and set him up on the sofa to sleep? We can talk more tomorrow when this all sets in, okay?”

Marco gave a curt node, cradling Ambrosio in his arms as he moved to his feet. He swooped down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Ace’s head before dragging the boy back to bed. He never made it out of Ambrosio’s room, falling asleep there instead. 

Marco woke up to the smell of sweetened coffee and french bread. The first thing he noticed was Ambrosio’s foot in his face. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he shook the upside down boy awake. 

“Come on, Brosi,” he sleepily called. “Papa made breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” the boy mumbled, rolling over and on top of Marco before falling off the bed altogether with a loud thud. “What’d he make?”

“I don’t know,” Marco said, sitting up as he rubbed at his tense shoulders, using his devil fruit ability to ease the ache. “Let’s go ask him.” 

“Papa!” Ambrosio hollered. “Food!”

Ace laughed at the two of them, looking quite tired himself. “Yes, I’ve made food, so come eat with us.”

Marco took his usual seat, Ace to his left, Ambrosio to his right, and a very hungover looking Izo across from him. Ace had made french bread and cheese rolls with slices of ham along with some fruit placed in the center. It looked and smelled amazing to Marco who’d slept through dinner the night before. 

If Marco ever got the chance to meet Makino in person, he might just kiss the woman.

“Thank you,” he said, reaching over to place a kiss to Ace’s cheek. 

“Adorable,” Izo snickered. 

“They do that all the time,” Ambrosio groaned. “It’s so gross.”

“You think it’s gross now,” Izo said, popping a slice of mango into his mouth, “but you won’t once you find someone you want to love on like that.”

“_ Never_!”

Marco laughed at the exchange, but he noticed a certain look in Izo’s eyes every time their gazes met. Izo must have wanted to talk to him about something, but refused to do so in front of both Ace and Ambrosio. The blonde decided that the two, indeed, needed to talk about something important. 

“Marco, I’m going to go take Ambrosio to go get a haircut,” Ace said in between bites. “It shouldn’t take that long since it’s a weekday.” 

“What?!” said boy exclaimed. “I don’t need a haircut!”

“You can hardly see your eyes!” Ace hollered back. “They’re your best feature!”

“Tell Aurora I said hello, yoi,” Marco said before the conversation could get too far out of hand. “I think Izo and I are going to take a walk.”

And by walk, Marco meant to go visit Pops’ grave. 

“Alright, come on, Brosi. Time to brush your teeth,” Ace said, clearing their plates.

The two of them were about halfway to their destination when Izo finally broke his silence. “So, I take it that you haven’t told Ace about his other brother being alive yet, have you?” he asked, his long hair swept back into an elegant bun. 

Marco sighed. “No,” he said. “I haven’t found the right opportunity to tell him about Sabo.”

“Alive and with Ace’s old devil fruit ability!” Izo exclaimed. 

“I know, I know,” Marco said, shaking his head. “I’m terrified of how he’ll react, yoi.”

“How do you think he’ll react to you withholding something so important from him?!”

“Izo, I know! I’ve tried, yoi. I’ve tried so hard to pick the right time to tell him, but...it just never seems to be the right time. I wrote Luffy a letter, and I stressed how important it was that he come. Sabo’s been here, I’ve met him, but he’s not easy to reach. No one in the Revolutionary Army is, yoi. Luffy knows how to get into contact with Sabo. I told him that they both needed to come here, and to tell me before they do. I even wrote Shanks, Izo. _ Shanks_, yoi.”

“Gods, Marco,” Izo said, placing a bottle of sake on top of Pops’ headstone, saying a silent prayer. “I knew you were a bit of a disaster, but this...”

“I know,” Marco said, placing a lone white lily on the old man’s grave. “I want Ambrosio to meet his family, and I want Ace to see them again, but he can’t leave the island. They have to come here. Do you see what I’m dealing with, yoi?”

“You need to tell him sooner rather than later, but let me see what I can do on my end. You’ve got friends in high places, Marco,” Izo said, embracing the solemn man. “Don’t forget that.” 

  


Izo stayed for a little over two weeks, and during that time, he grew close to Ambrosio, often spoiling the small boy with exotic candies he brought with him from other islands along the way. In fact, with Clover’s help, he had a gold and black kimono made just for him. Ambrosio enjoyed playing around in it, lighting a series of lanterns Izo helped him to make with Clementine and the entire island in tow. 

“I’m sure Thatch and Pops can see it,” he said, clutching Marco’s arm as their eyes were glued to the night sky. 

“They can, yoi,” Marco said, turning he head to watch as Ace held Ambrosio in his arms, their faces lit by the soft glows the lanterns produced. 

  


“Do you really have to leave tomorrow?” Ambrosio asked, blue eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m afraid so,” Izo said as he tucked the boy in. “I’ll be back one day, though, so don’t fret too much. I can’t leave you alone with these two _ all _of the time. You’ll go mad.”

“I heard that,” Ace chidded. 

“Good!”

  


Ambrosio cried when Izo left the following morning, clinging to Ace as he openly sobbed. Ace rubbed his back in soothing circles, waving Izo off with promises of letters, care packages and long distance calls made over den den mushi. Marco could only look on, his heart heavy with grief and longing for the rest of his family. 

“Daddy, my heart hurts,” Ambrosio said, wiping his eyes as Ace cleaned his nose with a tissue. 

“I know, buddy,” Marco said, ruffling the boy’s hair as the three of them walked on home. “Mine does, too.”

“Can I go to Wano?” he asked.

“One day,” Ace said before Marco could answer. “When you’re big and strong and don’t need us anymore...”

“I’ll always need you!” Ambrosio exclaimed. 

Such a simple statement from a childlike place, but it warmed Marco’s heart, and put his mind at ease for the time being. He really did fear for the boy’s future. He feared not being able to help him if he were to ever come to harm like Ace had. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Izo!_  
<3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's my birthday, so I figured I celebrate by posting a couple of chapters!

“I don’t understand,” Ace said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “If this is suppose to be a present for me, why do I have to help?”

Marco’s eyes narrowed as Honeydew let out a whimsical laugh beside him, his shirt off alongside his husband as they toiled in the summer heat. A little over seven months had passed since their wedding day, but his wedding present had taken a backseat to his ultimate gift. Honestly, Marco had tried to keep Ace as busy as possible so as not to see the inner workings of pirates, spies and revolutionaries. 

“Because we needed your input on what to place and where, yoi,” he said. “It’s your garden.”

A decent enough lie that wasn’t really one at all. Marco did, in fact, want this to be perfect for the other man in every way. When it came to Ace, he always did. 

The fact that Quill and Mirabelle were posted at either edge of the island on each port, east and west, scouting for the Thousand Sunny and its foolhardy crew proved that. A revolutionary or two would be onboard as well, and Marco had worked himself to the bone on that part in particular. Ace’s complaints of not seeing him often enough would soon be forgiven.

Mostly.

Ace could be a needy, physical creature determined to hunt the blonde down at all cost. It worked well on the Moby, but Marco had an entire island to play hide-and-seek on now. No work would ever get done if Ace took up every ounce of his free time, he noted. 

No matter how much it pained the blonde to do so.

The whole island was in on it save the children, and so they helped Marco to hide, plot and plan every detail like some delusional mastermind. Ambrosio didn’t ask as many questions as Marco thought he would, but he figured that had more to do with the boy’s inherent ability to read the situations going on around him with a keen eye and relative ease, sifting through the unsaid like soil. A talent that only seemed to grow alongside him with age.

Still, the child appeared put off by Marco’s absence all the same, and so Marco spent late nights consoling the child that once this important task was complete, everything would return as it once was. A little better, even, because Ace would have his brothers, and Ambrosio, two more of his uncles. While Izo detested the fact that Marco withheld Sabo’s existence from Ace, he helped Marco on his quest all the same.

No matter how many times he tried to place one word in front of another in a single, simple sentence, he found it both impossible as well as incoherent. If he were more honest with himself, he would concede that he held a lot of fears when it came to disclosing this information. He feared that once Ace learned that Sabo was alive somewhere out there, he would take off to try and find him, effectively breaking the one condition placed upon him following his return.

Marco feared—more than anything—that he would lose Ace all over again, but it felt so much more terrifying when he added Ambrosio to the equation. If Ace were to break the contract, Marco would not be the only one reeling from his loss—their son would be, too. If Ambrosio struggled before, he didn’t know how he’d react when there were no more chances. What if that so-called Thunderbird decided to punish Ambrosio for his father’s folly, too?

What if Marco lost them both?

Nightmares such as those are what drove his silence. 

“Hey, dad!” Ambrosio called, standing by the backdoor of their home, dressed in only a pair of loose fitting white shorts he hadn’t quite grown into yet. 

The boy was growing ever in height at a pace that almost concerned him. For a six year old, Ambrosio was towering over children three almost four years his senior. This distressed Ace greatly, afraid that their son would grow up too fast. 

“What’s up, Ambrosio?”

“Mirabelle’s calling for you!” he exclaimed, as though Marco was truly that far out of earshot.

“I’m coming, yoi,” he said, winking at Honeydew as he went.

Once inside, he took the den den mushi from Ambrosio who could only peer up at him with unbridled curiosity and a dash of excitement. He knew something was about to happen that day.

“Mirabelle,” he said, walking to the front side of the house. “What have you got?”

“I’ve got a giant ship heading towards the west port is what I’ve got,” she said. “It’s got some kid hanging off the mast like a monkey.”

“That would be Luffy, yoi,” he said, feeling his pulse quicken.

“Ace’s little brother?” Mirabelle asked, muttering to herself. “That makes _ a lot _of sense, honestly.”

“How much time do we have?”

“At this rate? I’d say about fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.”

“That’s all we’ll need, yoi,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Let’s get this boy his long awaited gift already!”

“Come on, Ambrosio,” he said, smiling down at his son as he ruffled his long hair. “Let’s go get papa his surprise.”

“Surprise? Yes! I love surprises,” Ambrosio said, taking hold of Marco’s hand.

“Ace,” he called. “We got a call that a ship’s coming into port, yoi.”

“There’s no ships scheduled to make landfall,” Ace said, sitting back to look at Marco with obvious concern and confusion. 

“I know,” Marco said, keeping his voice even. He had to give Ambrosio’s hand a firm squeeze to keep him from bouncing up and down beside him. “That’s why we were going to go check it out, yoi. Right, Ambrosio?”

“_ Right_!” Ambrosio exclaimed, grinning over at Ace. “Dad said I’m old enough to go with him.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ace said, moving to stand as he dusted the dirt off himself. “Marco, we don’t know who this is.” 

“You think I can’t handle it, yoi?” Marco asked, quirking a single brow as he fought not to grin deviously at the other man. 

Honeydew could only shake her head at him as she added more fertilizer to the soil. 

“No!” Ace exclaimed. “But it shouldn’t be just you and our six year old!”

“Then how about you come with us, papa?” Ambrosio asked, bouncing again with ever growing excitement. 

“You’re damn right I’m coming with,” Ace said, peering over his shoulder at Honeydew. “We’ll be right back, promise.” 

“No worries!” she exclaimed, a bright, sunny smile shining through her otherwise dirt covered features. “It gives me more time to contemplate the color scheme you want.”

“Thank you, Honeydew,” Marco said with a nod and a wink.

The three of them headed outside of the safety that their hidden village provided and towards the port that resided on the west coast of the island. Marco knew that Ace had never gotten the opportunity to see the Thousand Sunny before his untimely death, and so he knew that the other man wouldn’t recognize it by sight alone. Thanks to Nami, none of their flags were raised which _ did _catch Ace’s immediate attention. 

“Do you think they got caught in a storm?” he asked, walking with Ambrosio in between them, ever the protector to their young son. 

“I’m not sure, yoi,” Marco said, a logical rouse. “The rest of their ship appears to be in good shape.”

“It’s _ huge_!” Ambrosio exclaimed.

“What if there’s a lot of them, Marco?” Ace asked, and the blonde’s heart ached a little at that. He would never let Ace or Ambrosio come to harm, ever.

“Finally!” Mirabelle shouted a few feet up ahead, sounding a horn that only she carried.

  
  


In that moment, the Strawhat jolly roger was revealed, and Ace’s feet came to a sudden halt as he nearly stumbled, his mouth open in shock. He turned to look at Marco with wide, shimmering eyes and flushed cheeks. Marco couldn’t help but smile softly at his husband. 

“Here comes your _ real _gift, yoi,” he said, and Ace couldn’t hold back the tears brimmed his eyes. 

“_ Marco_!” he exclaimed, embracing Marco with enough strength to pick the blonde up and off the ground. “Are you kidding?!”

“Nope,” Marco happily answered, pressing a hard kiss to Ace’s lips before taking a step back.

Marco leaned down to pick Ambrosio up at the same time Luffy appeared to rocket himself into Ace’s arms, knocking them both down to the ground with a loud thud. Luffy cried loudly as he shook Ace by the shoulders, tears falling from his eyes onto Ace’s marred chest. Ace could only hold his little brother tight as the rest of Luffy’s crew descended to where they were at.

“_ Ace_!” Luffy exclaimed. “Ace, it’s really you!”

“Yeah, it’s me, Luffy,” Ace said, voice wavering as he slowly got up to his feet, Luffy clinging to him the entire time. “Marco’s told me how amazing you’ve become in such a short amount of time. I’m really proud of you, little brother.”

Nami, Brook, Chopper and Franky were already in tears as they watched the scene unfold before their eyes. Robin’s intense gaze settled on Marco and Ambrosio with an immediacy he didn’t quite expect. Her smile; however, was both demure and disarming.

“Phoenix-san, that’s Ambrosio, no?” she asked, the closest person to Marco’s right. 

“Yes,” he said, smiling down at the boy with a sense of pride. “This is our son, Ambrosio. Ambrosio, this is one of the members of Luffy’s crew, Robin.” 

“Hi,” he said, bashful just as he was when he first came to stay with Marco. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Franky, come look how cute he is.”

The cyborg grinned from ear-to-ear as Luffy seemed to remember himself then. “Oh, that’s right!” he exclaimed. “We’ve got a surprise for you! Marco worked really hard on this one with me!” 

Marco held his breath as Franky stepped aside, revealing first Koala and then Sabo. Dragon’s second in command could only tremble in place as Ace’s gaze settled upon him. Ace took one step forward before going still entirely. 

“_ Sabo_?” he asked, unsure. 

“It’s been a long time, Ace,” Sabo said, tipping his hat forward as his body erupted in flame. 

“But...you died?”

“That’s just it!” Luffy exclaimed, bringing the two together in a large embrace. “He didn’t! He got blown up and lost his memories, but didn’t die! He’s been with my _ boring _, old dad all this time!”

Marco went to introduce Ambrosio to the Strawhats cook, Sanji, when Ace suddenly threw a punch at Sabo’s face, connecting with his brother’s jaw. Marco set Ambrosio down, aiming to go get Ace off of him, but Zoro and Koala were quick to intervene between the two. The second they looked away; however, Ace had Sabo in a headlock. 

The two were laughing. 

“You absolute barbarian!” Sabo exclaimed, throwing an elbow at Ace’s face.

“_ Idiot_!” Ace screamed back. 

Luffy took this as an incentive to get involved jumping on both of them as they continued to brawl. Marco could only look on with easy amusement. 

“I wish I could say I’m surprised,” Sanji muttered, taking a drag from his cigarette as he handed Ambrosio a gift bag full of desserts and candies he’d made himself. 

“Wow! Look, dad!” Ambrosio exclaimed. “Can I eat these all tonight?”

“Hell no, you can’t!” Ace hollered, getting back up to his feet as fatherly instinct kicked into high gear. “You barely sleep as is! Marco, hold onto those!”

“But they’re _ mine_, papa! Sanji gave them to _ me_!” 

Sanji looked put-out at being placed in the middle of their dispute, but Zoro found this to be particularly funny, laughing at the chef’s expense. It gave Marco an idea. 

“Hey, Ambrosio,” he said, placing a hand on the boys shoulder. “Remember how I taught you about different weapons and fighting styles?”

“Yeah,” Ambrosio said, effectively distracted. 

“Zoro here is a swordsman, and he fights using three swords.”

“You got three arms?” Ambrosio asked, staring up at Zoro as the green haired man smirked.

“How about I show you?” he asked.

“Yeah!”

When Ambrosio’s back was turned, Marco handed the basket to Jinbei for safe keeping. “There,” he said. “Problem solved.”

“If you say so,” the fishman said with a slight smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're _finally_ here!


	14. Chapter 14

Chaos reigned wherever the Straw Hats went, but the mood felt much lighter, much more serene as all three brothers reunited under the same sun. They had all worked so hard to get to this point, and now that it was here, they all could breathe a sigh of relief. Marco could only smile as he watched Ambrosio interact with his two uncles, laughing as Ace showed him off with an overwhelming sense of pride. 

He couldn’t help but to notice; however, that every time there lingered a lull in their conversation, that Sabo’s eyes would linger first on Ambrosio and then on Marco himself. Marco could read most people, but Sabo remained an exception, his true thoughts well hidden after years of practice. He couldn’t make sense of what Sabo felt or thought in those fleeting moments between laughter and smiles. 

Ace looked to be enjoying himself now that he’d processed his inherent shock, but even amongst the crowd, he sought out Marco’s gaze. He wanted to make sure that his husband remained in his line of sight, though Marco knew not why. This was his time with his family, after all, except Marco seemed to have forgotten that that now included him as well.

Ace didn’t want him to be merely an onlooker, and made his feelings known once the group made it to the Twizzler, where Alba and Marlow awaited their arrival. Marco sat on one of the stools in front of the counter, ordering a beer as Alba tried to seat the rowdy crew without cursing them to hell and back. Marlow had just handed him one when an arm slung itself over his shoulder. Marco looked up to see none other than Quill, his embrace strong and unrelenting. He went to greet the man, but Quill beat him to it.

“You need to go sit with your husband,” he said, the tone of his voice grave sounding. 

“Why?” Marco asked, lone brow quirked.

“Because he’s obviously wondering _ why _you’re not there beside him.”

“I’m giving him time with his family.”

“Which includes you, too, not just your son,” Quill warned, and Marco looked back over his shoulder to see Ace glaring at the two of them, a pout to his lips.

Well, damn. 

“I’m in trouble,” he muttered.

“You’re about to be if you don’t go to him right now.”

Marco took the advice, picking Ambrosio up as he took his place besides Ace, setting the boy back down on his lap. Ace instantly took hold of his hand, and Marco realized that he must have been anxious, needing the blonde as a source of comfort. He ruffled Ambrosio’s hair with his other hand, taking a sip of beer as Ambrosio ate a handful of fries.

“He looks like a mini Ace,” Luffy said, taking a huge bite of food, his cheeks bulging. 

“He does,” Sabo noted. “Except for those blue, blue eyes.”

“Yeah, pineapple guy won there!” Luffy exclaimed.

“_ Marco_,” Ace warned, gritting his teeth at his youngest brother. “His name is Marco.”

“That’s what I said!” 

Marco took another sip of his brew, noting that Sabo’s eyes were glued to his left hand. Or, more accurately, his left ring finger.

“I can barely believe it myself, yoi,” he said, setting the glass bottle down as Sabo’s gaze met his own.

“Believe what?” Ace asked, in the middle of slinging mashed potatoes at Luffy’s face.

“I never thought you’d ever get married,” Sabo admitted. “You always talked about freedom this, freedom that, and that marriage was the least free thing you could do.”

Marco peered over at Ace, noticing that he looked rather embarrassed by his brother’s sudden choice of topic. “Yeah, well, a lot of things change from when you’re seven, Sabo,” he said, and Marco could only give him a wry smirk. “Besides, I feel freer now than I ever did as a pirate. Marco’s the best person I could have ever married.”

Marco felt his face flush, not expecting such a heartfelt declaration in a moment like this. Always full of surprises, that one. 

“You guys have certainly been through a lot,” Nami said, looming over Luffy’s shoulder so that she faced the couple.

“Literal death,” Ace said, giving Marco a dazzling smile and wink.

“He’s obviously a good husband if he got us all here in one piece,” Nami added, sighing. “You’re really lucky, Ace.” 

“But, _ Nami-swan_!”

“Don’t even start, Sanji!”

“I know,” Ace said, pressing a chaste kiss to Marco’s heated cheek. 

“Dad,” Ambrosio called, looking up at Marco with a curious expression about him. “I want to go talk to the cyborg again.”

“His name’s Franky, yoi.”

“I want to go talk to the cyborg Franky,” he said, and Marco could only sigh.

“Then go talk to him.”

“No, you come with,” Ambrosio said, whining as he used those big blue eyes to beg.

“Fine.”

Sabo continued to watch them, and Marco couldn’t figure out his motivation for doing so. He imagined that the two of them would be having a talk of some kind, he just couldn’t tell about what, and that unnerved him. He tried not to focus on it too hard, keeping an eye on Ambrosio and Ace alike. 

Marco and Ace toured around town with them, introducing them to the curious locals as they went along. The Laydown happened to be the only inn in the entire village, and it was just large enough to accommodate their guests. Flint and Daffodil had built it by hand, and Daffodil ran the day to day operations well enough on her own, but she would most definitely need an extra hand with this.

“Well, it’s getting late,” Ace said, holding a sleepy Ambrosio in his arms as the boy rested his weary head against his father’s broad shoulders. “We need to put Ambrosio down for bed, but we’ll see you guys first thing tomorrow.” 

“Bye, Ambrosio!” Chopper exclaimed, waving at the small boy who returned the gesture.

“Bye, tiny deer! We’ll eat more candy tomorrow!” Ambrosio exclaimed before falling asleep again. 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Ace said, glaring at a rather guilty looking Jinbei and Marco in the process.

To be fair, Ambrosio was sneaky when he really wanted to be.

“See ya tomorrow, Ace! You, too, Pine—Marco! We’ll play more later, Ambrosio!” Luffy exclaimed, waving his goodbyes.

“Later,” Sabo said, his hand in Koala’s as she led them away to their shared room. 

The three of them walked back home with a casual pace about them, but Marco could see that Ace held a lot on his mind. He kept quiet; however, knowing that his husband would talk once ready. The sun dipped below the horizon just as they reached their front door. 

Marco put Ambrosio to bed before retiring himself, finding Ace lounging in bed, a pair of briefs his only attire for the evening. A distracting sight, the blonde worked to undress himself, taking into account the high heat that wore on even through the darkness of night. He laid down with a sigh, and within a blink of an eye, Ace was on top of him, threading his fingers through Marco’s hair as he brought their lips together in a searing kiss full of want and admiration. 

“You’re the fucking best, you realize that?” Ace asked, breath warm against Marco’s lips as he ground their hips together. 

“Am I?” he asked, hands on either side of Ace’s hips as the other kissed him, again and again, his hands roaming Marco’s chest all the while, his fingers tracing over Whitebeard’s mark.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” Ace said, face pressed into the crook of Marco’s neck as he clung to him. “I can’t believe that Sabo’s really alive.” 

“I think he has the same thought, yoi,” Marco said, thinking back to the other man and his ever watchful gaze. 

“I want to take the time and talked to him one-on-one tomorrow,” he said, biting the side of the blonde’s neck as Marco let out a low hiss, “but I want you all to myself tonight. You don’t get to wander off, Marco. You’re mine, too. My family. You and Ambrosio both.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, running his hands up and down along Ace’s sides. “I just thought you might want some privacy with them.”

“Which I’ll have, but that doesn’t mean my life here with you two just stops,” Ace said, peering into Marco’s eyes with a mixture of love, lust and trepidation. “I love my brothers, but this is my home. _ You’re _my home.”

“I love you, and I’m glad you’re happy,” he said, bringing Ace down for another, hungrier kiss. 

“With the gift or with you?”

“Both.”

And to prove it, Marco flipped Ace over and onto his back, caging the other man in as he settled in between his thighs, biting and kissing at his neck, chest and shoulders. Ace cried out at a particularly hard bite to his shoulder, their hips grinding together. Marco enjoyed each and every sound Ace attempted to quell, unable to do so the further the blonde pushed him, sliding a hand in between thick thighs, massaging him through the cotton material of his briefs. 

“_ Fuck_,” he moaned, throwing his head back the more Marco teased him. 

“Language, yoi,” Marco warned with a smirk. “Ambrosio might hear you.”

“Don’t say that,” he whimpered, nails digging into the blonde’s shoulder blades, nipping at Marco’s jaw. “I—please.”

“Please, what?”

“I want you,” Ace murmured, mouth pressed against Marco’s chin. 

“Can you keep quiet, yoi?” 

Ace shook his head yes in lieu of answering, his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. A look Marco had yet to learn how to properly resist as he removed Ace’s boxer briefs with gusto, trying to keep as quiet as possible himself. He grabbed the bottle of lube, vexed to see it almost empty, but counted his blessings that there would be enough for this time alone.

He made a mental note to purchase more the following day, but quickly ditched the thought as Ace peered up at him with a hazy look to his eyes, his chest rising and falling with absolute need held in every breath. Marco got to work, using his fingers to work Ace open nice and slow, the other covering the younger man’s mouth. Try as he might, Ace was _ not _a silent lover by any means, and it gave Marco a devious idea. 

“I thought you promised to be quiet, yoi,” he said, taunting him as he curled his fingers upwards, stretching him wide. 

Ace whimpered at that, his hips thrusting forward. The sound and image alone set Marco aflame, driving him onward as he continued to tease the other man. Ace was hard, leaking and desperate. 

A stunning look on him, really, and one that only Marco had the pleasure of seeing.

“If you’re this loud with just my fingers, maybe we shouldn’t do more than this,” he said, his tone low, almost thoughtful, but Ace was having _ none _of it. 

He shook his head frantically from side-to-side, groaning against Marco’s open palm at the same time the blonde found his prostate. Marco enjoyed the cries he made, even if it was muffled. Ace began to rock his hips, impatient and wanting. Marco caved in, removing his own briefs as he slicked himself up the best he could. He lined himself up with Ace’s entrance, pressing in steadily as Ace groaned deep within his throat. 

“Good boy, Ace,” he whispered, bottoming out as Ace inhaled deeply through his nose, a keening sound escaping his throat.

It brought back some good memories, and Marco couldn’t contain the absolute hunger in his kiss or his movements. He pulled back before slamming forward, rolling his hips in fast, tight waves that had Ace’s legs shaking. Every noise he dared to make, Marco swallowed it up whole, keeping him pinned beneath his solid weight. 

“Keep quiet, baby,” he added, delighting in the other’s lust filled gaze and bodily shudder. “I know you can do it.” 

He slid a hand down to Ace’s arousal, jerking him off in tandem with his thrusts. Ace, already overwhelmed and on edge, came not too long after, his back arching up off the mattress as Marco clamped a hand down over his mouth, containing most of the noise. His ass clenched down around him tight, and Marco found his own orgasm slamming through him with a choked out groan and a bastardized version of Ace’s name. Marco gave a few more thrusts as Ace shuddered through the haze of his climax. The brunette remained a panting, writhing mess long after Marco removed his hand from his mouth. 

“Good boy, Ace,” he cooed, brushing loose curls from the other’s sweaty face. Ace loved the usage of it, the praise of the word. 

“Fuck, Marco,” Ace moaned, forearm slung over his face, shielding unseeing eyes. “That was great.”

“Mmm,” Marco hummed, trying to find the energy to go fetch something to clean them off with.

“Let’s take a bath,” Ace suggested, apparently not done with the other man as he looped his arms over Marco’s neck, bringing him down for a languid kiss. “We haven’t gotten the chance to be together much, so make it up to me.”

“If you insist, yoi.”

  
  


Ace settled in between his legs, the water hot and steaming as their bodies melded together. The scar across Ace’s back always caused such a visceral reaction in him, the same sort of discomfort he noticed in both Luffy as well as Jimbei. The horror of having been there when it had first been inflicted. 

“I want to meet that guy Luffy’s in alliance with now,” he said, almost as though he’d been able to read Marco’s thoughts. “_ The Surgeon of Death_.”

“Trafalgar D. Water Law,” Marco noted, remembering the man as the one he entrusted with Luffy’s life.

“Yeah, him,” Ace said with a weary sigh. “He saved Luffy’s life.”

“He did.”

“With the help of you and Jinbei.”

Marco should have known that was coming. “You died protecting him, yoi,” he said. “The hell I was going to let him die there, too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me...?”

“I hate thinking about it,” he said. “It makes me remember everything else about that day, yoi. The worst day of my life.”

Ace turned around then, his eyes gazing into Marco’s with an almost pleading sort of look. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what, yoi?”

“For running away,” he said. “For everything.”

“We’ve talked about this, yoi.”

“I know, and I know you don’t want any apologies from me, but I need to apologize. If I hadn’t doubted how much you loved me, if I hadn’t let my anger consume me...I would have never placed the people I loved and cared about the most in such a fucked up situation.” 

“We did what we did out of love for you, yoi,” he said, “and none of us regret that.”

“You know I love you, right?” he asked, and Marco realized that while thrilled at being reunited with his loved ones, he must be going through a series of other emotions, including guilt. “I loved you then, and I love you now. I-I don’t say it enough, but you know it’s true, right?”

“I do, yoi,” Marco said, trying to ease the other’s worries, “and I love you, too.”

“Quill’s nice and all, but I still hate it when he talks to you,” he admitted, biting his bottom lip, “and I hate it even more when he touches you because he looks so much better with you than I do.”

“Ace,” Marco warned, refusing to go down that route with him. 

“I know there’s nothing between you two,” he said. “I _ know _that, but he’s a good guy.”

“And so are you.”

“He owns his own restaurant.”

“So?”

“He’s responsible and strong.”

“Ace!” Marco exclaimed, forcing the other to make eye contact with him. “Stop. You don’t get to decide whether or not I love you. You don’t get to decide whether or not I leave you, and you most certainly don’t get to decide who I’m right for. I _ love _ you. I _ married _ you. I have a _ son _ with you, yoi. I go to bed and wake up with you. I plan my future around the fact that I will _ always _be with you.”

“_ Why_?”

“Because I’ve loved you from the moment I first set eyes on you, yoi. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you,” Marco said. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you before or since. You’re going to have to accept that as fact one day.” 

“I do—”

“You don’t,” Marco said, clutching the edge of the tub. “Or you wouldn’t be saying the things you’re saying.”

“Marco, please—” 

“I’m done with this conversation, yoi,” he said, pushing Ace back so that he could get up. “It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow. I’m going to bed.”

Marco kept to his side of the bed that night, and Ace didn’t dare to invade his space, even though the blonde knew he couldn’t sleep because Marco also couldn’t sleep. He remained rolled over onto his side, gazing out their bedroom window at the full moon, a thousand thoughts flitting through his mind. If what Ace had witnessed after his return from the dead couldn’t convince him that he was loved, Marco didn’t know what would.

“I know you love me,” Ace said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t think I deserve it. Still.”

Marco couldn’t help but to try and hold his tongue, unable to curve all of the anger and hurt that tore him apart. “Because you never learn, yoi,” he bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _DRAMA._
> 
> Oh, Ace.


	15. Chapter 15

The following morning, they got ready in relative silence, mindful of Ambrosio’s presence, the pair worked to keep the atmosphere light and normal as possible. Marco cooked as Ace got Ambrosio ready, listening to the excited young boy’s plans for the day. Marco listened intently, adding commentary here and there, feeling Ace’s gaze on him the entire time.

He didn’t want to fight, to be cold towards the other man, but he was most definitely hurt.

Before they left to meet up with the others, Ace tugged on the hem of Marco’s dress shirt, his silent way of asking for a kiss. Marco didn’t hesitate, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to Ace’s lips. The look in Ace’s eyes spoke of wanting something more, but Marco wasn’t there yet.

“Marco!” Chopper greeted, a large smile on his face and a couple of medical journals held aloft in his tiny arms.

“Chopper,” he greeted in turn. “I’m thankful that you’re willing to help me with my most recent endeavor.”

“Of course! Considering the studies that you have come from my home, it would be rude not to help.”

“That, and you’re an incredible doctor with a lot of information to be had.”

“That’s not flattering at all, you jerk!” the reindeer exclaimed, twirling around in obvious glee. 

“Come, I’ll show you the way to my clinic.” 

“Don’t work too hard, Chopper,” Zoro warned, arms crossed.

“Yeah, make sure you two are back before lunch,” Sanji added, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “This is _ supposed _to be a vacation.”

“Yes, of course,” Marco said with a laugh, looking down at Chopper with a lopsided grin. “Tell your parents goodbye, Chopper.”

“_Oi_!” Sanji exclaimed. “We heard that!”

“Good.”

“Dad!” Ambrosio exclaimed, letting go of Luffy’s arm to run after him. “You’ll be back, right?”

“Of course, yoi,” he said, pinching the child’s cheek. “When I get back, I’m all yours.”

“Great!” he exclaimed, but the excitement didn’t quite reach his eyes. Marco leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

He couldn’t hide anything from the boy, try as he might.

“Everything okay?” Chopper asked.

Marco sighed, readjusting his glasses. “I’ve been away a lot the past couple of months, and I promised him that once this was over, I’d be home more,” he said, declining to bring up his fight with Ace and the awkward start to their day.

“Oh, I’m sure he understands.” 

“I hope so.”

  
  


The pair worked all throughout the morning, comparing notes and going over the ingredients Marco had obtained thus far. Chopper supplied him with the supplies he hadn’t yet obtained, and they worked hard to cultivate that into something substantial. Soon, he would have a series of vials filled with medicine that would be strong enough to suppress Luna’s overactive immune system, disabling the diseases progress.

“How old did you say your patient was?” Chopped asked.

“She just turned twenty-three,” he said.

“So young to be dealing with something like this, but autoimmune disorders can come about at any age, sadly.” 

“A family history doesn’t help.”

“Most certainly not,” Chopper said, jumping off of the office chair Marco had provided to him. “Well, it’s almost noon! Let’s get back before Sanji comes looking for us!”

Marco chuckled at that, but agreed nonetheless. “I’ll lead you back to the inn,” he said. 

“Yeah, Sanji’s taken over the kitchen there so Daffodil-san didn’t have to worry about us! She was very thankful after seeing Luffy’s appetite,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

  
  


The inn was both busy and boisterous when the two arrived for lunch. Usopp regaled Ambrosio with tales of giants and ninjas, mixing lies and truth as the boy asked a slew of questions. Franky and Robin were dancing as Brook played the piano, belting out a song with Jinbei that Marco wasn’t familiar with but liked nonetheless.

Nami and Zoro appeared to be making bets on something, and though Marco knew not what about, it was clear to him that Zoro was losing. In the corner, Ace sat next to Luffy as they stuffed their faces full of food, arguing all the while. Sabo and Koala sat across from them, and were the first to notice Marco’s arrival. 

“The doctor makes his return,” Sabo said, offering a genuine smile.

“I have, yoi,” he said.

“Listen, Marco, I wanted to talk with you when you get the chance,” he said, and Marco could see hints of that something held captive in his gaze just like he had the day prior.

Marco went to offer his time right then, right there, but Ambrosio saw fit to intervene at that exact same moment. The boy was still trying to surprise Marco from behind, but he had yet to learn the ways of haki, and that while keen in natural observation, he was nowhere near Marco’s level. He turned just in time to capture the boy, using his wings to take flight with him.

Ambrosio could never get enough of that. If it were up to the six year old, Marco would fly them everywhere. Ace, too, for that matter.

“Dad, you’re back! Play with me!” he exclaimed, and Marco could do little more than obey the soft joy that filled his son’s eyes. 

“Of course, yoi,” he said, embracing the child as he turned to look at Sabo once more. “Once he’s finished with me, I’ll come and find you.”

Sabo laughed, and Marco found it similar to Ace’s own. “I can definitely wait,” he said, giving Ambrosio a little wave.

Marco could feel Ace’s eyes on him all the while, and he tried to be the bigger man, to move on from what had been said the night prior, but he wasn’t there yet. He met the other’s gaze, giving him a brief nod before taking off with their son to play. If Ambrosio weren’t present, he knew that Ace would have bolted after him, would have pleaded for clemency, but as it were, he let Marco go.

  
  


“You enjoying yourself so far, yoi?” he asked, throwing a baseball back and forth with Ambrosio outside the inn.

“Yeah, there’s just a lot of people, you know? A lot of adults in one room being noisy,” he said, and Marco could understand that. The two of them were similar in that regard, and Ambrosio had yet to become accustomed to such large numbers, if he ever would.

“You like everybody though, right? Your uncles?”

“I mean, I still miss Izo, but I really like Sabo and Luffy. Luffy’s weird, and I don’t understand how he’s older than me, but it’s fun to play with him.”

“And Sabo?”

“I like him! He’s really strong, too. He’s got cool flames, like yours, but red and hot! He said he got them from papa after he died?”

“He did,” Marco said, taking a couple of steps back to make things a bit more challenging for the child. “When papa died, the fruit he ate grew once again in the world.”

“When you die, will your fruit do the same?” Ambrosio asked.

“It will.”

“I don’t want that!” he exclaimed, his arm freezing mid-throw. “I’ll _ eat _it!”

“You’ve got to find it first,” he said, smiling at Ambrosio’s determination. So much like Ace, he thought.

“Oh, I will!” 

“If anyone could, it would be you, yoi.”

Ambrosio appeared satisfied with that answer, resuming his throwing. The two talked and played for at least two and a half hours, and Marco realized how deprived he’d been of his son’s presence. If he felt that way, he could only imagine how Ambrosio felt about it.

“You’re gonna be around more now, right?” he asked, his arm tired as Marco massaged the area for him. 

“Yes,” he promised. “Now that I was able to do this for papa, I’ll be home just like I was before.”

Ambrosio smiled up at him. “Good!” he cheered. “We both missed you _ so _much!”

Marco picked Ambrosio up as they made their way back inside. The atmosphere happened to be a bit more relaxed with everyone focusing on food, drink and conversation. He took a seat to Ace’s left, the only seat available, and thanked Sanji for the food even though he felt anything but hungry.

“Go ahead and eat up, yoi,” he said, encouraging Ambrosio’s ravenous appetite so that he might help him to clear his plate. 

“I can’t get over how much you adore your son,” Jimbei said, sitting across from him. “You Whitebeard’s and your wayward children.”

Marco smiled at that, playing with Ambrosio’s hair as Ace took his free hand under the table, giving it a firm squeeze. Marco squeezed back.

“Gramps?” Ambrosio asked, and Jinbei nodded his head in the affirmative. 

“Pops taught us well, yoi,” he said with a shrug, completely unapologetic with how parenting had quickly become his number one priority in life.

Now if only he could add being a decent husband to the list, he would be forever grateful.

“You guys don’t understand,” Ace said, never letting go of Marco’s hand. “The kids around here have him wrapped around their finger, it’s freaking adorable.”

Jinbei smiled as Sabo and Koala both laughed. The meal went on without much commotion until Luffy tried to steal food off of Ace’s plate. Marco took a drum stick or two from his own plate, handing it over to Luffy instead. Luffy gladly took it.

“Thanks, Marco! You’re the best brother-in-law I have!”

“He’s the _ only _brother-in-law you have,” Ace argued.

“The only one I need!” Luffy exclaimed. “He shares!”

Once finished, Sabo motioned for Marco to follow him. Marco nodded his head, handing Ambrosio over to Ace as he got up. He felt conflicted for all of two minutes before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Ace’s head before he left. 

He still said nothing; however, unable to trust his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Chopper & Dr. Phoenix comparing notes is so cute and funny to me I couldn't resist. 
> 
> In my head, the Straw Hats would all become obsessed with Ambrosio in some way, shape or form.


	16. Chapter 16

“Can we visit Ace’s grave again?” Sabo asked, glancing over at the other man briefly.

“Sure, I don’t see why not, yoi,” he said, hands in his pockets as they headed east, the overbearing sun to their backs.

It was going to be another long, hot night. He could feel it.

“He’s right there in front of me...talking to me, and I still...it’s surreal in a lot of ways,” he said, adjusting the glove on his right hand. A habit Marco took note of the first time Sabo had come to visit. “If he was watching you, why couldn’t he see that I was here, too?”

Marco had shared the same question until sometime last night. “He did see you, yoi,” he said, trying his best to be tactful considering the topic. “He just didn’t recognize you. In his head, you were still just a kid, yoi. You’d never grown up.”

That seemed to take the other man aback, his hands trembling as they came to rest over his eyes. “I didn’t even remember that much about him until it was all too late,” he said, his words muffled. 

“You can’t be blamed for that, yoi,” Marco said. “It wasn’t your fault you didn’t remember.”

“If I had known—”

“But you didn’t. There’s no point in continuing to torture yourself over it.”

“Ambrosio, he’s...really something,” Sabo said, and at first, Marco presumed he meant about the boy’s origins, but that wasn’t the case. “I never thought that Ace would ever settle down, let alone find some peace in his life.”

“Ambrosio’s had the same effect on me, too, yoi,” he said as they approached their destination. 

“You, too,” Sabo said. “He’s always looking to you, watching you. He’s always been independent to the point of detriment, but he has no qualms about asking you for help. He was never like that as a kid.”

“He was never like that as an adult, either,” Marco said. “That...led to his death in a lot of ways. He didn’t change in that regard until he came back.”

“You know, I thought Luffy had cracked when he first got in contact with me. Then he told me that you were the one to tell him, and I had to stop and really think about the possibilities for something like this. A year ago, we found this message in an ancient language that no longer has any native speaks,” he said, reaching into his vest pocket. “It’s old, tattered, but if you’re able to decipher it, it might lead you to some clues as to Ace’s rebirth.”

“What’s this drawing of?” he asked, studying what appeared to be an ‘X’ with large wings and claws, its beak long and sharp like a dagger. 

“A Thunderbird,” he said with a shrug, “and before you ask, the only thing I’m willing to say is that the letter was addressed to Ace’s mom a long time ago.”

“Rogue?”

“Rogers’ one and only.”

Marco grimaced at that, tucking the paper safely away to review later. “I imagine that there’s more you want to say to me than just this, yoi,” he said.

“I know that loving Ace can be hard,” he said, turning to look at Marco in full. “Especially because he has a hard time believing that he’s deserving of life, let alone love, but you can’t stop. If you need to beat it into, fine, but you can never stop.”

“I don’t have any plans to,” he admitted.

“He seemed off today, less happy and more anxious. Of course, Ace only shows this by punishing Luffy for any preconceived slight, but I digress,” he said. “He wouldn’t let Ambrosio out of his sight. Hell, he barely let the kid leave from his side at all.”

“We got into a bit of a...disagreement last night,” he said, looking away from the other man. “I haven’t been able to talk about it yet with him.”

“What? He trying to free you of him or some other nonsense?”

“Something like that,” Marco said, his jaw clenched with tension. “It’s not the first time he’s done so. Hell, it’s not even the first time he’s done it since coming back, but it was the first time he had someone else in mind for me.”

“The dark haired guy with the scar from the diner?”

“Quill, and yes.”

“What an idiot!” Sabo exclaimed, looking as young as he actually was for the first time. “I’m sorry, Marco. You know he doesn’t mean it, right? He just can’t help himself sometimes.”

“I know, yoi, but I’m running out of ideas on how to assuage those fears of his. I never moved on after his death, I felt like I had died there with him. I never took another lover, never so much as looked at anyone else because no one else could ever compare. I took in our son without question or thought, took Ace in as soon as he came back, and married him soon after,” he said, taking a deep breath to try and collect himself as well as his thoughts. “I don’t...I _ can’t _do more than what I’ve done. I worked diligently to get you and Luffy here, and it was all for him...to make him happy, to forget about the fact that he’ll never be able to set foot off this island, yoi.”

“You’re a good partner, Marco. A great spouse. It’s obvious how much you love him, but Ace has a lot of demons he’s yet to face involving his own self-worth. I wish I could describe to you how far he’s come from when I last knew him. It’s like night and day. You’ve done an incredible job simply loving him, but now it’s his turn to find himself in all this.”

“Like I said, I’m not giving up, but last night just...hurt. I’m hurt, yoi.”

“And you need to tell him that. That you’re not angry, not pissed off, but hurt by things that aren’t true and will never be true. Hold him accountable.”

“I definitely plan on talking to him later when I get the chance, yoi.”

“Hey, what if Koala and I offer to take Ambrosio for ice cream with the promise of bringing him back home later? That way you two can _ really _talk without having to take Ambrosio into consideration.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“I’m glad that kid doesn’t have the same doubts and fears that Ace had at that age. You two have done such an amazing job with him. He’s a really fun, interesting kid,” Sabo said, all teeth as he smiled.

“Thanks, yoi,” Marco said, and he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marital advice by Sabo.


	17. Chapter 17

Sabo followed through on his promise, and the two were forced to endure their walk home in relative silence. Marco determined that he wouldn’t say anything until they got home, but that plan began to unravel the closer they got as Ace tried, and failed, to keep from crying. He came to a stop all of a sudden, grabbing Marco by the arm as he forced him to spin around, coming face-to-face with one another.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand before pulling Marco closer to him. “I really am, Marco. I’m sorry.”

“I know, Ace,” Marco said, tilting Ace’s chin up until their eyes met. “You just...really cut me deep, yoi.”

“I didn’t mean to!” he cried. “I just started to panic. I felt guilty—”

“Ace, it’s okay,” Marco said. “You had an ugly moment, but it’s passed. You can’t let your mind do this to you, though. You’re only hurting yourself and the people you love the most in the process.”

Marco led him by the hand the rest of the way, and when they got home, he wiped Ace’s eyes as he kissed each of his cheeks, followed by his forehead and then his lips. Ace kissed him with a fervent sort of desperation, clinging to him as they settled down on the sofa. Marco stroked his hair, nuzzling Ace’s cheek as he sat on Marco’s lap.

“I love you so much,” he said, “and it scares the hell out of me.”

“I know, yoi.” 

“It scares me how much you love me,” he added, his hands cradling either side of Marco’s face. “I just-I don’t understand _ why _you love me so much, and I’m afraid that I’ll do something bad, so bad that it’ll make you stop.”

“I’ll never stop loving you, yoi,” he said, watching Ace’s face the entire time. “You’re going to have to learn to accept that. Accept me always being here for you.”

“I keep having these nightmares, Marco. I keep dreaming that you’ll grow sick of it one day, sick of me, and you’ll take Ambrosio and leave...and I’ll be left here all alone,” Ace said, tears streaming down his face, and Marco could do little more but listen. “I have this deep seated fear that I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough for all of this. For you and Ambrosio, and that you’ll grow to resent me.”

“Ambrosio loves you more than anything in this world, and that will never change. No matter how old he gets,” he said. “You can’t doubt that, Ace, but anytime that you do, we’ll be here to reassure you. No matter what.”

“I’m trying so hard to get over this, but I keep failing,” he said, placing his head on Marco’s shoulder. “I don’t want to fail. I _ can’t _fail.”

“And you won’t,” Marco said, rubbing Ace’s back. “You won’t fail, but it’s a process. One day at a time, right?”

“Right,” Ace said, sighing, his head still against Marco’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Marco said, promised.

Ace sat up a little then, just enough to slant his head to one side, pressing a soft kiss to Marco’s lips. Marco didn’t hesitate, but he kept it just as light—airy. Afraid that if he used force, that Ace would flee once again.

Gentle.

Gentle until Ace saw fit to deepen it, his knees on either side of Marco’s lap. Marco could only sigh into it, trying to keep himself even as Ace’s tongue slid across the seal of his lips, pleading for entry—demanding it. The blonde granted it to him, meeting him tit-for-tat, as though they were sparring.

“Ace—”

“Let me,” he murmured, lips pressed against the side of his mouth, trailing kisses across his well defined jawline, down along his neck.

Marco sighed, his head tilted back a little as Ace undid the buttons of the blonde’s light blue dress shirt. “You know, I used to be obsessed with making a name for myself,” he said, removing the garment from Marco’s person as he went. “To seperate myself from Rogers’ image, but I don’t care about that anymore. The only people I want to make sure remembers me is you and Ambrosio.”

“You’re a lot of things, Ace, but forgettable isn’t one of them. The only people who talk about you being Rogers’ son are those who didn't know you, yoi, and those people don’t matter, and they never did.”

“You never forgot me,” he said, removing his own shirt, exposing his beautifully crafted upper body with sparse freckles lining sunkissed skin. A mouthwatering sight.

“And I never will,” Marco said, continuing to let Ace take control of the situation. It was obvious that he felt the need to do so.

“Marco, I’m good enough. Right?” he asked, sitting back a little. A little helpless, a little hopeless, but Marco loved him anyway.

“You’re perfect, yoi.”

“And you don’t regret marrying me?”

“The only regret I have is not being able to do it sooner.”

“_ Good_,” Ace said, pressing closer to Marco as he captured the blonde’s lips. “We’re almost at a year.”

“One of many, yoi.”

“You always know what to say,” Ace said with an open, unfiltered laugh. A beautiful sound. 

“I’m just honest.” 

“I’m going to blow the fuck out of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ace _will_ get his shit together. Someday.


	18. Chapter 18

By the time Sabo and Koala dropped Ambrosio off, Marco and Ace were showered, dressed and ready for bed. Marco thanked the couple for their help, and Koala found it necessary to state how relaxed and content Marco and Ace both looked. Ace’s entire face went red at the comment, and he proceeded to punch Sabo for provoking the poor woman.

The four of them shared a few drinks as well as a couple of stories until it was time for Ambrosio to go to bed, something he tried to get out of when they had guests, claiming it to be rude on his part. Sabo and Ace shared a couple of laughs before sharing a warm embrace, and Marco loved to see it. He’d hidden the paper Sabo had given him away in a book about basic anatomy until he could take it over to Willow’s residence on the opposite side of the village. 

If anyone could help him, it would be her.

“I’m going to go put Brosi to bed, and then I’ll be back,” Ace announced, kissing Marco’s cheek before disappearing altogether.

Marco made notations in a medical journal he kept in regards to Luna’s prognosis, planning to add the results of each trial run they did with the medication Chopper had helped him to finish. Hopefully, it would have positive results, but if not, he wanted to know where and when to make changes.

That night, Ace didn’t hesitate to tuck himself close into Marco’s side, one hand placed over the blonde’s chest, right above Whitebeard’s mark. He lazily pressed kisses across Marco’s neck and shoulder, one leg crossed over Marco’s own. It was something he used to do after a long time apart. 

“I told Ambrosio, but I hadn’t mentioned anything to you yet,” he said, covering Ace’s hand with his own. “After Luffy and Sabo depart, my schedule will go back to normal again. I’ll be home more often.”

“You worked really hard to get them both here at the same time, huh?”

“Ever since Izo left, yoi,” he said. “A pirate and revolutionary aren’t easy to track down.”

“You really are the best,” Ace said, kissing Marco lightly on the lips.

“If you couldn’t go to them, I was going to find a way to bring them to you.”

“I forgot how chaotic it could be with all three of us together, but I’m really happy to have the two of them here. Happy doesn’t even begin to describe it, really,” he said, kissing Marco again in the steady darkness of their room. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I don’t care. I’m just glad that I have you.”

“I don’t know how I got to be so fortunate to be with you not once, but twice, yoi, and my only goals in life are to be an amazing husband and father, and to spoil the two of you as much as possible.”

“Well, you’re doing a hell of a job so far, just so you know.”

Marco chuckled at that, his mind at peace and his eyes growing weary. “Good, yoi,” he said with a yawn, nosing at Ace’s hair. “Now go to sleep.”


	19. Chapter 19

Ambrosio spent most of their time together fighting with Luffy who was more than happy to oblige, challenging him to everything from eating contests to see who could lift what and for how long. Sabo would intervene before either could kill themselves or each other, showing Ambrosio bits and pieces of advanced techniques to pull one over on the youngest of three brothers while Ace cheered him on. The girls would show him maps of the known world, and Robin made it a point to gift him a variety of books on archeology after showing the boy bits and pieces of the ruins that surrounded the outside of the village. Ambrosio grew an interest in them and their secrets, and wanted to learn more about the world around him, near and far, and what hidden messages they contained. Nami got him interested in meteorology, while Koala and Jinbei taught him the basics of fishman karate, teaching him about Fisher Tiger and telling him how Whitebeard once protected the Fishman Kingdom, and now that role belonged to none other than Straw Hat crew themselves.

Sanji made it a point to cook for everyone the entire duration of their stay, informing Marco that he and Ace deserved a break while introducing Ambrosio to new foods that he’d never tried before, explaining what went into it and how nutritional value mattered while simultaneously sneaking him treats left and right whenever Ace wasn’t looking. Truth be told, the chef appeared a bit smitten by Luffy’s older brother, a fact Ace found flattering when he first met his younger brother’s crew in Alabasta. Marco made it a point to thank the chef often for his consideration, enjoying the shrug that would inevitably distort slender shoulders. Zoro gifted Ambrosio with three bokken, practicing with the child on the beach along with Chopper who cheered them on. The two were rather soft-hearted where children were concerned, it turned out, and Marco felt a sense of contentedness at watching such strong, decent people taking an interest in Ambrosio’s well being. 

Franky, Usopp and Brook made it a point to entertain the young boy the most during their stay. Franky gave him a tour of the Thousand Sunny, explaining each and every detail that went into crafting something of that magnitude to a child who had never set foot on a ship before. Usopp told him stories of their exploits as a crew, from Giants to Zombies to a little girl with the ability to turn people into toys at will. He also took the time to draw and paint with Ambrosio, teaching him how to do the Straw Hats jolly roger as they went. Brook showed him each and every instrument in his arsenal, playing a little something for him with each of them. Ambrosio seemed most interested in the guitar, and about lost his mind when Brook decided to gift him an acoustic one so that he might practice, including a book or two on the subject as well, but stressing the importance of playing whatever it was he felt. 

The day finally came for the Straw Hats and the two visiting revolutionaries to set sail, and Marco felt a sense of loss at having to watch them all leave. Their presence reminded him of what he missed most about being a pirate, a family of your own choosing to love who always had your back just as you had theirs. Ambrosio didn’t cry as hard as he did when Izo left, but the experience did ignite his curiosity and desire for adventure with a fervor that would never wane.

Marco reassured himself that that was fine, that he and Ace would provide their son with all the tools that he would ever need to survive on his own out in the world. He would step out and face the unexpected, but he would not be clueless about the things he would go on to encounter. Marco determined that he would provide an extra curriculum for Ambrosio to study along with the basics that Honeydew provided. 

Slowly, Marco was finding peace with the idea, but until then, Ambrosio was theirs to love, protect and above all else, cherish. 

“You okay, yoi?” Marco asked, pressing a chaste kiss to Ace’s lips, Ambrosio propped up on one hip.

“Yeah, just sad to see them go,” he said, smiling as Marco kissed him again.

“Don’t worry,” Ambrosio said. “They’ll be back just like Izo!”

Ace smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Ambrosio’s forehead, his hands on either side of the boy’s face. In moments like these, where Ace didn’t overthink his place in the world, his love and commitment to the things that mattered most in life shone through like a beacon of light. The way he loved their son never ceased to warm Marco’s heart while simultaneously making it flutter. 

“You still want to check out more of those ruins Robin was talking about later?” Ace asked, and Ambrosio nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his face beaming with pure happiness.

“Maybe daddy can come, too, if he’s not too busy later,” Ace said, giving Marco a sly smile as he put him on the spot.

Marco smirked at the other man. “Of course, yoi,” he said, carrying along back to the village with Ace by his side. “After I get done with Luna’s first trial run, I’m all yours.”

“Yay! You can try and help us figure them out, too!” the boy cheered. 

“I’d loved to,” he said, focusing all of his attention on his small family until the time arrived for them to part ways. 

“You’re so good to us, daddy,” Ace said with a wink, and Marco could feel his face flush with heat.

Thankfully, Ambrosio remained ignorant to the connotations of what Ace said, blissfully unaware of innuendo. How long that would last, he didn’t know, but counted his blessings nonetheless. He glared at Ace, but it was half-hearted at best, and they both knew it. Ace loved to be daring, to push any and all limits. It made Marco fall all the more in love with him. 

“You keep talking like that, and you’ll be in trouble, yoi,” he said, noticing that their home appeared in the distance. 

“Promise?”

“_ Ace _.”

Ace laughed, taking Ambrosio from Marco as he leaned forward, capturing the blonde’s mouth with his own, nipping at his bottom lip with a sensual playfulness about him. A small taste of what was to come, Marco surmised, and he couldn’t wait. If Ace insisted on acting like a brat, Marco held no qualms in treating him like one.

“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked, a flirtatious glint to his eyes.

“A promise is a promise, yoi,” he said with a sly smirk.

  
  


He carried that feeling with him all the way to the clinic where Luna awaited him with a certain eagerness about her. After discussing all possible risk with her, Luna decided to move forward with the procedure. Any chance for her to regain some semblance of a normal life was well worth the risk. 

“You ready to get started, yoi?” he asked, readying the infusion. “Any questions?”

“I’m a little nervous,” she said, getting comfortable on the recliner Marco had set up just for her. “I know you said I might feel a little sick for a while after, right?”

“Right,” Marco said, cleaning Luna’s arm after finding a suitable vein. “That’s why I said to make sure to have someone to look after you for the rest of the day.”

“Elio’s got that covered,” she said, the large dimple set in her right cheek deepening the more she smiled. “He’s going to baby the heck out of me.”

“That’s what good brothers are for, yoi.”

Luna laughed at that. “Normally, it’s the other way around with us,” she said. “He’s the baby after all.”

“He’s returning the favor, then.”

“He’s just as hopeful as I am about all of this,” she said, her smile waning as her eyes fell to her lap. “Maybe a little more hopeful than I am, honestly. I’ve tried so many different treatments before...ever since I turned fourteen.”

“I know it can be challenging to remain hopeful when you in the midst of suffering, but know I’ll be here with you every step of the way,” he said, acknowledging her plight. “If it helps, this treatment has a ninety-five percent success rate.”

“If anyone could help me, Marco, I know it’ll be you.” 

The infusion took a little over an hour to complete, and when they were finished, Elio arrived to help his sister back home to rest for the day. Marco implored them to contact him if anything out of the norm occurred, day or night. He proceeded to make his usual rounds before stopping by Mirabelle’s stand as he normally did at least once a week, purchasing a bouquet of blue hibiscus flowers blended together with vibrant orange tiger lilies. 

“Ace’s family set off today, huh?” she asked, tying the stems together with a silver bow. “It feels far too quiet now.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “They left this morning.”

“Ace and Ambrosio holding up okay?”

“Better than expected, yoi.”

“Good. Be sure to send Ace my love.”

“Of course.”

  
  


The first thing Marco noticed as he approached the outside of the village were heavy, gray clouds rolling in at an unusual pace. The second thing he noticed was a large steamship engulfed in flames and falling to pieces the closer it carreened towards shore. The third and final thing he noticed was Ambrosio running full force towards the wreckage, wadding through rough, high falling waves as Ace shouted for him to stop, chasing after their son.

“_ Ambrosio_!”

“I hear crying, papa! There’s crying!” Ambrosio exclaimed, moving further and further away, and before Marco could transform, Ace dove into the water to get him, effectively _ leaving _the island. 

Marco’s heart stalled in his chest.

“Ace!” he cried, transforming in the blink of an eye, but it was all too late.

The clouds opened up as a giant bird crafted from flaming reds and shadowing blacks descended upon them, each flapping of its massive wings brought a roll of clashing thunder with it. The Thunderbird.

Marco ran the remaining distance, trying to reach Ace and Ambrosio in time. An infant, no older than ten months old, wailed in Ace’s arms, but its cry was drowned out by the towering creature above them. Ambrosio wrapped his arms around Ace’s waist, clinging to him for dear life.

“Ace!”

“Stay back, Marco!” Ace exclaimed, glancing over at his husband with a grief-stricken look and waning smile. “Brosi, take the little one and go to daddy, okay? Get out of the water.”

“But papa, the Thunderbird!”

“Take her and go,” he said more firmly. “Make sure to cradle her head right, okay?”

Ambrosio began to sob, his small body trembling as he welcomed the baby into his arms, turning away from Ace as he struggled to make his way back to shore. Marco met him halfway, heart in his throat. His eyes never wavered from the entity before them.

“Ambrosio,” he called, taking the whimpering infant into his arms, studying her for the first time, but unable to take it all in as Ace remained where he stood, the Thunderbird directly over him now.

Truly, his beak looked like a dagger handcrafted from serrated black steel.

“Dad, I didn’t mean to,” the boy sobbed, and Marco could only hold him close as he cried harder, his face pressed against his father’s dress shirt, his small hands clinging to Marco’s capri.

“It’s not your fault, Ambrosio,” he said. “Whatever happens, remember you did nothing wrong.”

And then, it spoke. 

“I’ve warned you once, I warn you again. Stay anchored, or remain adrift.”

“I could just stand by!” Ace exclaimed, pointing a finger at the looming Thunderbird. “My son’s life was in danger!”

A flash of lightning spread from its beak, its wings rolling with thunder unlike anything Marco had ever seen or heard before. A chilling image.

“Many people do many things for their children, this I understand. Take the children, and return once more. Trust in the phoenix to rise above the ashes. I warn you no further, death awaits at the next open door.”

The Thunderbird disappeared in a flash of bright light, leaving behind a demolished ship, a living dead man, a phoenix, an immortal and, by all accounts, a miracle. Ace ran for the shore, dodging pieces of debris along the way, sprinting towards Marco whose heart had yet to settle back to normal. He brought Ambrosio into a warm embrace, swinging the boy around in his arms as the child continued to cry, hiccuping every time he tried to speak.

“I-I’m sorry, papa!” he cried, his arms tight around Ace’s neck.

“You did nothing wrong, Ambrosio,” Ace said, kissing the boy’s forehead once, twice, three times. “You saved her life.”

The small bundle in Marco’s arms quieted down somewhat as the sun reappeared, and he was able to look upon her fully for the first time. Her skin dark, her hair a reddish-brown, and when her eyes were clear of tears and focused congealed like the purest of honey. The cutest thing about her; however, in Marco’s opinion were the sparse freckles that painted her cheeks, nose, chest and tiny shoulders. 

“She looks like a Portgas already, yoi,” he said with a small smile, looking up at Ace with tears in his eyes. 

What could have been the end for them had just become a new beginning. 

“You’ve got to think of a name for her,” Ace said, stepping closer as he studied the girl with renewed interest, his face soft with wonder.

“She’ll grow up fast, right?” Ambrosio ask. “So we can play.”

“I’m afraid she’s not like you, yoi,” Marco said, chuckling softly. “It’s going to take her some time, so you need to make sure to protect her.”

Ambrosio’s face lit up at that. “Protect her? Of course!” he exclaimed. “I’ll start right now!”

“Well, right now, we need to go home, bathe and get into some dry clothes,” Ace said.

“And then what?” Ambrosio asked.

“And then we try and figure out what we’ll need in order to take care of a baby,” Ace said, looking somewhat panicked by his own words. “Marco, we’re really going to need a list!”

“Oh, so now you want to use a list?”


	20. Chapter 20

Honeydew appeared both awestruck and horror stricken all at the same time while both she and Clementine stood in the middle of their living room, hands on her hips as she studied the infant with a critical eye, as though the poor child held secrets as to how it got there. Ace had the foresight to call her over, explaining the situation in full as Marco checked the girl over for any signs of harm, internal as well as external, his hands lit up with blue flames as he caressed her chubby arms and legs. She looked like a cherub, he realized with a soft laugh.

“What are you going to call her?” Honeydew asked after a moment. 

“Don’t know,” Ace said, watching as Honeydew showed them both how to change a cloth diaper. “Marco hasn’t named her yet.”

“I’m still trying to process everything, yoi,” the blonde argued. 

“I’m just glad I kept all of Clementine’s old clothes and that Clover-san still had a few pampers in stock,” Honeydew said, pinning the diaper in place. “Clementine’s the youngest child on the island. Or, at least, she was until right now.”

“We’re super thankful,” Ace said. “We don’t know the first thing about babies.”

“That’s why I brought a couple of books with me when I realized you were serious about what happened. When Quill’s done with helping Mirabelle surveying the wreckage, he’s going to help me get Clementine’s old crib out from storage. Daffodil and Flint made it as a baby shower present.”

Honeydew proceeded to dress the girl in a simple yellow bodysuit with llama’s printed on it, parting her hair into two sections before modeling the soft curls into tiny buns. She looked so precious, so fragile that Marco had to fight the urge to tuck her under one wing and keep her there forever. Ace didn’t even pretend not to want to coddle her, holding her in his bare arms as he mumbled absolute nonsense to her, laughing whenever she deigned to spare him a giggle.

“Would you mind teaching us how to style her hair while keeping it healthy, yoi?” he asked, noting that the baby’s hair resembled Clementine’s and Honeydew’s most strongly.

“Of course!” Honeydew exclaimed with a ready-made smile. “I can pick up some hair supplies and teach you guys the basics. Her hair’s going to need a lot of tender, loving, care.”

Marco nodded his head in understanding, trying to keep a mental list of everything when Ambrosio exited the bathroom, freshly showered and changed into one his old tank tops and black cargo shorts. Ace moved to sit on the sofa, the baby sitting on his lap as he looked her over. It was obvious how smitten he was.

“I’m done!” Ambrosio announced, looking decidedly brighter and less upset than he had prior. “Hi, Clementine! Did you meet my little sister? I’m in charge of her now!”

“She’s really cute!” Clementine exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a baby before!”

“Me neither!”

“Ambrosio, make sure your hair’s dry,” Ace warned, patting the cushion beside him for the young boy to sit. 

“It is,” he said, jumping up onto the sofa with a huff. “Promise!”

By nightfall, Marco and Quill had the wooden crib handcrafted from a walnut tree set up on the opposite side of their bed. Mirabelle bought a case of baby formula over for them, and went about teaching Ace the basics of feedings and burping that followed. Ambrosio learned just as much as the two of them did that day, eager to help take care of his new baby sister.

“Did you find out where that ship came from?” Marco asked, taking a gulp of water now that the crib was set up, their last remaining task completed. 

“From what we could salvage from the wreckage, it looked to be a merchant from South Blue,” Quill said. “Nuestra Señora de Encarnación.”

“South Blue?” Ace asked, handing the girl over to Marco so that he could help Ambrosio to clean up after dinner. “That’s where I was born.”

“I thought you were from East Blue?” Quill asked. 

“I was raised there, sure, but I was born on the same island as my mother— _ Baterilla _ .” 

“I’ve been there before,” Quill mentioned.

“Really? What’s it like?” Ace asked.

“A tropical island with a lot of cantinas and even more palm trees,” came an all too familiar, gruff voice.

Ace dropped the plate in his hands, the white porcelain shattering to the ground as Mirabelle reached for both of her flintlock pistols. Marco moved instinctively in front of Ace, Honeydew and Quill shielding the children behind them. Marco’s entire body erupted into blue flames, his will to fight palpable as he stared down an unwanted guest.

If you could call the bastard that.

“Is that anyway to welcome your grandfather?” Garp asked, his body language seemingly at ease, but his eyes, his eyes were spooked—on edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Marco, his blood pressure has got to be through the roof by now.


	21. Chapter 21

“What do you think you’re doing here, yoi?” Marco asked, practically snarling at the older man. “The World Government has no business—”

“Do I look like I’m here for business?” he asked, waving at his casual attire which consisted of a floral patterned button up and khaki pants . “This is strictly a family matter.” 

“Family, yoi?” Marco spat. “You forfeited any right to that at Marineford.”

“Ace, is it really you?” Garp asked, his features weary as he tried to get a better look at him. He looked positively haunted. “I dragged these people all this way...”

“People?” Marco asked, heart in his throat.

“Ace?” came a soft, hushed voice from somewhere behind Garp.

“Makino?” Ace asked, moving to stand beside Marco even as the blonde tried to stop him.

“Oh, Ace!” Makino cried, a child of her own propped up on her hip. 

Ace didn’t hesitate to embrace her, holding her close as she wept. “I can’t...I can’t believe it.”

“I know,” Ace said, rather choked up himself.

“Ace!” came another, much louder woman’s voice.

“Dadan?!”

“You, you absolute brat! I can’t—you’re really alive!” Dadan exclaimed, securing Ace into a large bear hug.

“Didn’t I tell you so, old man?” Shanks asked, large hand grasping Garp’s shoulder.

“You brought them here, yoi?”

“I got news of a certain bird,” Shanks said with a mischievous grin. “A bird I’ve only ever seen once before in my life, on an island in the sky. An island no one can get to anymore.”

“You had no right bringing Garp here.”

“He insisted.”

“I didn’t want the bastard here either,” Dadan admitted, wiping the tears from her eyes as she formally introduced herself to Marco.

Marco felt torn then, his stress levels rising the more he tried to categorize what added up to an immediate threat and what didn’t. Garp watched him struggle, taking in both his and Ace’s appearance with a studious stare about him. After a moment, Ace made the decision for them.

“Marco, it’s okay,” Ace said, placing a secure hand upon his shoulder. “He’s not going to do anything.”

“_ Now_,” Marco hissed. 

“Ever,” Garp stressed. “I know it might not seem like it, but I do learn from past mistakes.”

“I’ll fucking murder you if I find out you’re lying to me right now, yoi.”

“A fine hubby you’ve got there, Ace,” Shanks said, laughing as he pulled Makino closer to him. “I finally got her to agree to marry me after all these years, can you believe it?”

“You guys really got married?” Ace asked, dumbfounded.

“I was surprised, too,” Makino admitted with a soft blush.

“You came back from the dead just to marry Whitebeard’s first division commander, Ace?” Garp asked, his gaze locked with Marco’s own in a battle of wills. 

“Yes,” Ace said without hesitation. “Would you like to meet our kids?”

“Kids?” Shanks asked, head cocked to one side as he scratched at his chin. “Luffy only mentioned _ a _kid, as in one.”

“We’re going to have to have a very long talk with your brother, yoi.”

“Tell me about it,” Ace said, sighing. “Yes, kids. Ambrosio’s our son, but a wrecked ship washed up on shore early this afternoon. The only survivor is a baby that Ambrosio saved. Marco hasn’t named her yet, though. I’ve been calling her chipmunk because of how round her cheeks are.”

Once Quill, Mirabelle and Honeydew realized their sudden guests meant no harm, they visibly relaxed. Somewhat, anyway.

“If you need anything, and I do mean _ anything_, you call us okay?” Mirabelle said, giving Marco’s bicep a firm squeeze. 

“Of course, yoi,” Marco said, keeping his tone light, casual. “Thank you all for your help. I’ll be sure to call tomorrow.”

“Bye, Ambrosio!” Clementine called, waving goodbye to her friend as her mother ushered her out the door, completely unaware of the underlying tension going on around her.

“Copycat,” Garp said in lieu of greeting Mirballe by her given name, obviously remembering the woman’s exploits as a pirate.

“_ Curr_,” Mirabelle shot back, not bothering to even _ look _at the vice admiral. 

“You realize that woman’s murdered over a hundred men, right?”

“One hundred and one now, yoi,” Marco corrected. 

“You okay with having her around your children?”

“I’d rather have her than a man who helped to execute their father.”

“Hey—”

“Marco, stop. I’ll handle him, okay? We’ve got a lot to talk about if he’s standing in the middle of our living room right here, right now,” Ace said, grasping Marco’s hand in his. “Can you get them something to drink while we go outside?”

“You shouldn’t be alone with him, yoi.”

“Marco.”

“Fine, but I’m coming after you if this lasts more than twenty minutes.”

“He’s really not going to harm him, you know?” Shanks said, their newfound daughter sitting on his lap while he played with her fingers and toes, chuckling as the girl screamed with laughter.

“I can’t believe you brought him here.”

“Neither can I, to be completely honest with you.”

“Then why did you?”

Marco regretted raising his voice within an instant as his daughter began to cry, pulling on one of her ears in the process. Shanks bounced her on his knee, but when that didn’t work, Marco took over, cradling her in his arms. 

“Hello, Roux,” he said, pressing his nose to hers when she finally stopped crying and started to giggle and coo.

“Is that her name?” Ambrosio asked, taking a sip of juice as both Makino and Dadan fussed over how much he looked like a young Ace save the eyes, of course. 

“Yes,” Marco said, rocking the girl back and forth to try and get her to sleep, realizing how late it now happened to be.

After the day they’d just endured, Marco was in no position or mood to entertain guests, nor did he want to. He rubbed her back with soothing circles, watching as her eyes slipped loosely shut, thumb in her mouth. He wondered if he could find a pacifier for her. 

“I’m going to put her down, and when I get back, I’ll go ahead and call Daffodil at the inn,” he said, peering over at Shanks who could only stare back with an amused glint in his eye, “but tomorrow, you and I are going to have a nice, long talk about all of this.”

“I look forward to it,” the red headed man said with a lopsided grin.

Marco laid Roux down to sleep, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as she stretched out somewhat. He chuckled a little, noticing that Ace had filled the girl’s crib with various stuffed animals. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off of her, but knew that Ambrosio needed to go to bed as well.

Honestly, they all did.

Shanks, Makino and Dadan departed for the inn, saying their farewells as they stepped outside the quaint appearing house with a thriving little garden in the backyard. Marco sighed, glad that Shanks knew the way so that he wouldn’t have to guide them in the dead of night. He felt assaulted by the past, and nothing exacerbated this more than watching Garp place a hand over Ace’s chest, lingering over the scar that sat dead center.

Dead.

Ace had died. 

Garp hadn’t intervened on Ace’s behalf.

Marco would never forgive him for that, and Garp knew it. And yet, he still came on the off chance that Ace might actually be alive somehow. The only thing on Marco’s mind was the notion that he must protect Ace at all cost, that he must protect their children at all costs, and nothing felt as unsafe as having a marine vice admiral in their home.

He knew where they were, and if Ace told him, he would know that he could never leave; that Marco could never leave because he would never leave Ace.

Marco laid in bed, removing his glasses as he attempted to gather both himself as well as his thoughts. He laid awake, waiting on Ace to come back inside, to reassure him that Garp wouldn’t do anything to ruin their lives here. A year hadn’t passed yet since their wedding, since they took their vows and promised to love and cherish each other; their second chance at a life together. 

“Marco, you awake?”

So lost in his thoughts, Marco hadn’t heard Ace come in. He got into bed beside him, placing his head over Marco’s chest as they held each other, clinging to one another. Marco ran his fingers through Ace’s hair, more for his comfort instead of his husband’s. 

He didn’t know if Ace needed comfort, and he was almost too afraid to ask.

“I named her Roux,” he said, aware that his heart refused to settle, but he attempted to focus all of his attention on their little family and nothing else.

Garp, Shanks, or anything else.

“_ Portgas D. Roux _,” Ace uttered, his voice sounding far away. “Cute.”

“If you don’t like—”

“I _ love _it, Marco,” he said, putting a stop to Marco’s doubts as he leaned up to place a gentle kiss to the center of the blonde’s throat. “It’s perfect.”

“Garp...”

“He did this on his own,” Ace said. “He has no plans on informing the World Government about anything.”

“How can he possibly rectify that with his own sense of justice, yoi?”

Ace sighed. “Gramps is a complicated man, Marco,” he said, thoughtful as he turned his gaze towards the crib that now inhabited their shared living space. “I knew that if I got caught, there would be nothing he could do to help me. It’s why he tried so hard to keep me from becoming a pirate, but pirate or not, it didn’t really matter in the end...”

“Because you’re Rogers’ son.”

“Exactly,” Ace said, pressing a kiss to the center of Marco’s chest, over Whitebeard’s mark. “Realizing that made gramps beyond angry. He felt helpless, like he’d failed because I died younger than my own father did. You know Garp only as a marine, but it's a lot more complicated than that for me.”

“I suppose, but I’m still uneasy.”

“Apparently, Dadan was so mad at him afterwards that she beat the ever loving shit out of him.”

“Good for her, yoi.”

“I didn’t know she cared that much,” he said, a forlorn tinge to his words. “I didn’t realize anyone cared that much until the day I died.”

“You were loved then, and you are loved now,” Marco said, feeling somewhat calm.

“I’m exhausted,” Ace said, and it must have been the first time Marco had ever heard him admit to such a thing. A small step forward, he supposed.

“Then let’s call it a night, yoi,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of Ace’s head.

For the first time in the entire day, Marco felt himself relax enough to shut his eyes and fall asleep. However, the last lingering thought he had revolved around Shanks and his firsthand knowledge of the Thunderbird he saw for the first time that day, and what it all had to do with Ace’s return to the living. He figured he would know soon enough.


	22. Chapter 22

Marco woke up less than three hours later to the sound of crying. It wasn’t a wail, per se, but it sounded desperate—uncomfortable. He noticed that Ace looked to be passed out beside him, dark circles casting shadows underneath his eyes. 

He must have been much more exhausted then he led on.

“Don’t worry, yoi. I’m coming,” he said, keeping his voice to a bare minimum as not to wake Ace up.

Dressed in only a pair of boxer briefs, he turned the fan in their room on high, wondering if maybe the girl was overheated. He moved over to her crib, gazing down at her as she writhed around. Marco picked her up without hesitation, noticing right away that she was wet.

“You need a new pamper, yoi?” he asked, not expecting an answer as he set her back down, trying to locate a new diaper and short-sleeve bodysuit to help keep her cool all without turning a light on. 

Marco grabbed everything he needed, recalling what Honeydew had showed them beforehand, placing the soiled clothes into the basket beside her crib. He cleaned her up, amused to see just how amusing she found the whole ordeal, wriggling around as he tried to pin the new diaper in place. The white outfit he put her in had what appeared to be honeybees printed all over it, and he found that yellow tended to accentuate both her hair color as well as her skin tone in a flattering manner.

He made another mental note in a long list of them to try and get her more clothes in that color, holding her close to his chest as small hands grabbed curiously at his chin. He chuckled at that.

“I know I need to shave, yoi,” he said, deciding in that moment that he didn’t feel like placing her back into her crib. “Let’s go lay back down, okay? We’ve got to be quiet, though, because your papa’s sound asleep.”

Marco climbed back into bed, propping himself up at an incline as Roux stretched out across his chest and stomach, babbling nonsense as she moved her head to and fro. He smiled, acknowledging the fact that she might be up for a while yet, and he wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t find it in himself to mind; however, no matter how drained he felt.

“Are you a night owl, yoi?” he asked, rubbing her back and holding one of her tiny hands in his. “I used to be, too, when I was younger. It’s a hard habit to break. Well, unless you have a lot of wine, but that’s our little secret.”

Marco stayed up with her, telling her stories from his past to pass the time. He told her about her papa and older brother, and how excited they were to have her in their lives. He asked her questions that he knew she would never be able to answer, questions about her birth parents and how she ended up on that ship.

  
  


Marco didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but at some point he knew that he had. He awoke in a panic, noticing that Roux was no longer with him, but when he glanced over, he noticed that Ace, too, was missing. He breathed a sigh of relief, acknowledging that Ace must have taken the girl with him. Still, it was unusual for his husband not to wake him up, especially considering how late in the morning it happened to be. Marco got up, got dressed, and sleepily exited their bedroom to find that a circus had come to town in their kitchen.

Dadan held Roux, trying to teach the infant how to count cards at their kitchen table. Garp sat on one side of Ambrosio while Shanks sat on the other, each trying to convince him to go down a different path in life, like hell Marco would see his son mature into a marine. He’d sooner throw himself off a cliff.

Ace and Makino occupied the kitchen, both wearing matching pink aprons which looked ridiculous on Ace considering he wore no shirt underneath it. Marco realized, seemingly for the first time, that all of these people were involved in raising his husband in some way, shape or form. With dawning horror, he realized that these people were, in a way, his in-laws. 

The thought made his head hurt.

“You’re just in time,” Makino said, a bright and sunny smile to her face and a touch of flour on her nose. “We’re just about done with breakfast.”

“Thank you,” he said, unsure what else to say. He felt as though he were in a weird dream.

“I made coffee,” Ace said with a knowing look. “Come get it.”

Marco did as told, in dire need of caffeine and a good morning kiss. He could feel Garp’s eyes on him as he plodded into the kitchen, ruffling Ambrosio’s hair in lieu of good morning. He didn’t care what Garp thought, taking the dark, strong coffee with a soft peck as thanks.

“_Play nice_,” Ace whispered, securing his arms around Marco’s waist as he brought them closer together, kissing him again, much longer this time. 

“I’m too tired to do much of anything, yoi,” he muttered, meeting Ace’s gaze. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because you needed to sleep in,” Ace said with a tilt of his head, studying Marco’s face in full.

Marco acknowledged the real possibility that his husband might have overheard some of his late night ramblings. The gentle smile on his freckled face more than proved it. 

“Dad, you’re awake!” Ambrosio announced with a wide grin, motioning for Marco to pick him up and set him down on his lap. Marco would mourn the day he could no longer pick his son up with such ease, and amended to do so as much as possible until that day came.

“He’s quite tall for a six year old, you know?” Shanks asked, head cocked to one side.

Marco noticed that Shanks held his own son on his lap, a touch older than Roux. A cute kid, he looked a lot like Makino. 

“I’m six foot eight, yoi,” he said with a deep chuckle, “and Ace is six foot one. He’s going to be tall.”

“Dad, can I have a sip of your coffee?”

“No, yoi,” he said, having shut him down at least twenty times beforehand. “You have hot coco, you _ like _hot coco. Drink it, yoi.”

Garp gave a gruff laugh at that. “You afraid it’s going to stunt the brats growth?” he asked.

“I want him to sleep tonight, yoi.”

“We both do,” Ace said, setting two large plates of food down onto the table as Makino did the same on the other side.

“Let’s eat,” Makino said, effectively shutting down any and all conversation for the time being.

A mixture of toasted french bread, toasted cheese and ham sandwiches, granola with yogurt and a variety of fruit lined the table. Marco recognized most of it, Ace having made it before, but some of it looked new, things that Makino freshly taught Ace how to make. He figured it must have been something special for them to do after so long.

A lot was made, but between Ace and Ambrosio alone, Marco doubted there would be much of anything left over. Periodically, Ace would glance over at Marco and then Garp, but the blonde made sure to keep his earlier promise. It wouldn’t do to look uncivilized and threatening in front of children.

He kept his composure. 

Ace ate quickly, warming up the formula to get the youngest at their table fed. She appeared quite content, staring at everything around her, including Ace himself. Her tiny fingers twisted themselves in his unruly hair, causing Ace to laugh as he tried to dislodge them. Roux let out a squeal of laughter the harder Ace tried. Truly a mischievous girl, that one. 

“You need help, yoi?”

“Nope, I’ve got her,” he said, eventually succeeding in his task.

“Can I feed her?” Ambrosio asked, large, blue eyes filled with such hope.

“You’ve got to be careful, okay?” Ace said, motioning for Ambrosio to come and sit in the empty chair he’d been occupying beforehand.

“I will!” Ambrosio exclaimed, taking Roux carefully into his arms. “I watched Mirabelle do it!”

“What a good older brother,” Makino said, her eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Not like Ace at all,” Dadan added, earning her a glare from Ace in the process. 

“Luffy wasn’t a baby,” he argued. “He was old enough to be annoying already.”

“You were both absolute brats,” Garp mentioned, taking a sip of his coffee, a newspaper held aloft in front of him.

“And you left me with those monsters!” Dadan wailed.

“You _ adore _us!” Ace cried, making sure that Ambrosio held the bottle correctly.

“That’s _ besides _the point!”

  
  


Breakfast carried on in this way for another half hour or so, and Marco spent most of it pondering when it was that they had last had breakfast just the three of them. Well, four now with the addition of Roux, but that was a new venture for all of them as a family unit. The Straw Hats, Sabo and Koala had spent nearly three weeks with them, and so it must have been nearly a month since they last ate in relative peace. 

Well, as peaceful as it could get with Ace and Ambrosio in the morning anyway.

“Hey, Marco,” Shanks said, setting his fork down on the empty plate in front of him. “You wanna have that chat now?”

“Yes,” Marco said, moving to stand as Shanks did the same, drawing the attention of their respective spouses.

“Where are you going?” Ace asked, eyes locked on Marco as though the blonde were trying to skip town without notice. Which he’d done in the past, but still. 

“Going for a walk, yoi,” he said.

“With Shanks?” Ace asked, brows furrowed. Marco didn’t understand his whims sometimes. His brand of jealousy could be covert or overt depending upon the situation and person. Why Shanks—of all people—would garner such a reaction, he didn’t know.

“Ouch, Ace,” Shanks said, placing his hand over his heart, playfully wounded. “That hurts.”

“You two play nice,” Makino warned.

“How did we go from forty to ten in under five minutes, yoi?”

“I don’t know,” the redheaded man said with a shrug, “but it happens more than I care to admit.” 

Marco didn’t doubt that in the least. 

  
  


Marco realized that, out of all their guests over the past few months, three of them had requested to visit Ace and Pops gravesite—Shanks included. He understood Izo’s reasoning and Sabo’s desire to understand, but Shanks seemed rather torn staring down at their respective headstones. Ace never did reclaim his signature hat or necklace, and Marco never brought it up, allowing for his husband to dictate his own future without it being dictated to him by his past. Still, it moved him in certain ways to see them residing there and not on the person he loved. 

“You know, I loved my captain, but I can see why Ace hates him,” Shanks said, staring straight ahead. “How can you love a man you’ve only ever known in myth, from legends that propose him as a devil? He never got the chance to know the man, but Roger’s loved him. He loved him as an extension of himself and, most importantly, as an extension of Rouge.”

“I figure Roger’s has a lot to do with what’s going on right now, yoi.”

Shanks sighed. “You’re not wrong,” he said, taking a step back in time. “I was barely a step up in the grand scheme of things when we set sail for an island in the sky. We’d been to Skypedia before, it didn’t bother me any. Crocus had learned about it after Roger’s health took a sudden nosedive.”

“Roger’s illness...”

“I never learned whether or not it was hereditary,” Shanks said with a sad little smile, “but if it is, Ace’s best chance would lie with you.”

Marco held his tongue, he’d wondered about that before Ace’s death and then again in the months following his return. He thought about it even more while dealing with Luna’s own condition that remained heavily influenced by family genetics. 

“There were nothing but birds, hundreds of different species of them, some mythical and some not. There was only one person left on that island, a shaman who refused to give us her name even though she demanded all of ours,” he said. “The people of that island refused to reproduce. They wanted to return it back to what it once was. A gift to the birds that inhabited it. Roger loved it up there, loved the birds. Some of them could even talk, including a fledgling he found abandoned.” 

“The Thunderbird.”

“That would be it, yes,” Shanks said, chuckling. “Consider what happened with Ace as a sort of favor from an old friend.”

“Care to elaborate, yoi?” 

Shanks scratched at his chin again. “Roger’s rescued it from certain death, but nothing on that island was as it seemed. By saving that birds life, Roger’s soul became entwined with its own as well. In a way, or so the shaman said,” he mentioned, brows furrowed slightly. “None of us knew what that meant at the time, or what it would entail in the future, but I never thought about it after Roger’s death. Why would I? He was no longer around, but then Ace came back, and Luffy’s sitting there talking about some bird that helped him to do so.” 

“You knew it appeared yesterday. How?”

Shanks laughed at that. “After what Luffy told me, I had the island placed under surveillance. I was looking for Ace, and I found him alright, but not just him, but the bird and Ambrosio, too. It’s no longer a fledgling by any means, but it’s definitely the same bird. There was only one of its kind left. That’s all I can really tell you.”

“Is that bird an extension of Roger’s will, yoi?” Marco asked, trying to digest the information he’d just been given. 

“I guess you could say it’s the only way that Roger could look after him,” he said, “but you’ll have to ask Ace about all the birds he’s come across in his lifetime, each one coming to his aid in some way or another.”

“Birds...?”

Shanks laughed outright then, turning to stare at Marco with a jovial grin about him. “You realize that your a sort of bird, too, right? The infamous Phoenix gliding through the air,” he said, continuing to laugh. “Roger’s always thought you were interesting and, of course, overprotective of your crew. I don’t think he ever thought that you and his son would go on to be romantically linked, but he liked you all the same. Rouge, too, when she met you. She thought you were polite and intelligent and that the color of your plumage was absolutely stunning. She liked birds, too.”

“The letter that Sabo found?”

“We really thought Roger was about to die, and so Rouge demanded she go with us on that journey,” he said, back to reminiscing. “The shaman took a particular interest in her and her future, more so than even Roger’s. The letter was the last thing the shaman gave to her before we left, but we could only decipher bits and pieces of it, which meant we couldn’t read it all without all the pieces. If you ever do find out what it says, let me know. I’ve always been curious.”

“I will, yoi,” Marco said. “Thank you for telling me all of this.”

“I wonder, though,” Shanks said, chin tilted downward. “If the truth, or what I know of it, really matters in the end. I wonder if it’s worth telling Ace or not. Like I said, I understand why he feels the way he does about his father, and I don’t know whether or not it would be worth telling him that it’s been his father’s doing all along. I really don’t.” 

Marco knew the answer before he even thought about it. “He deserves to know the truth after everything he’s been through, yoi,” he said, “and as his spouse, it’s my job to tell him.”

“What a good husband you are,” Shanks said with a quirk of his lips. “Who would’ve thought, huh? The two of us getting hitched and settling down!”

Marco couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I never thought about it before Ace, yoi,” he said, hands in his pockets as he studied Whitebeard’s grave in depth, wondering what the old man would have thought about all of this. “I never expected to be pursued by an eighteen year old brat, either.” 

Shanks harked a laugh at that. “I’ve got to admit, I was floored when I found out,” he said, “but I also know Ace, and I know that he’s absolutely relentless when he wants something.”

“The guilt I felt after succumbing to desire and kissing him for the first time made me want to throw myself overboard, yoi.”

“I bet he kissed you first, huh?”

“After his eighteenth birthday,” Marco said. “He was drunk as anything.”

Shanks sighed at that, his mood suddenly taking on a serious tone. “You realize you’re probably the first person that kid has ever trusted implicitly, right?” he asked. “The first person to take his thoughts and feelings into account. I imagine he fell for you hard and fast, but it’s obvious that it was mutual. You wouldn’t have caved in if it wasn’t. What was it about Ace? What did he have that no one else did? You’d always been a solitary creature, never delving into anything that lasted more than a night, and yet, here you are with a husband and two kids.”

“Everything, yoi,” he said, suddenly very serious himself. “I saw him, and I knew. Beyond the pain, the anger, the sadness and the loneliness that clung to him like a second skin there was just something...more. The first time I saw him smile, the first time I _ made _him smile...I knew I was in too deep.” 

“You really lost yourself when they died.”

“Pops had lived his life, and he died how he saw fit, but Ace,” he said, bowing his head a little as he tried to shake the reluctant memories from creeping in. He hated thinking about it. “Ace’s life had just started, yoi. He hadn’t been with us long, hadn’t lived much, and he sacrificed it all in a blink of an eye to save his little brother.”

“The world is a strange place, Marco,” Shanks said, placing his hand on his shoulder. “It’s awful most of the time, isn’t it? I don’t know the why or the how of it, but I’m thankful nonetheless. Ace deserves a good, happy life, and you’re the only one who can give it to him. Ace...he would never fare well on his own, no matter what he says.”

“Funny, Sabo said pretty much the same thing, yoi.”

“That’s because he’s the wisest out of all three of them,” Shanks said, cackling. “Which isn’t saying much, but still.”

“You’re absolutely right about that one.”

“Of course I am,” Shanks said. “Now, let’s get back before everything goes to hell. Besides, it’s incredibly hot here around this time of year and I’m sure old Newgate’s tired of hearing me talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep Marco in your prayers, y'all. He's sleep deprived and he might just kill his in-laws.


	23. Chapter 23

Shanks decided he wanted to go grab a drink or ten, and so he wandered off to the Twizzler in search of booze. Marco walked home at a sedated pace, mulling over everything Shanks had just told him. He dropped by Willow’s along the way, explaining the situation and all that he knew about it to her.

“Hmm, interesting,” she said, putting on her reading glasses so that she could investigate the yellowed paper in depth. “I’ll see what I can do with it and get back with you.”

“Thank you, yoi,” Marco said, feeling a touch claustrophobic standing in Willow’s cramped library, books stacked anywhere and everywhere they could be. 

“I heard that there’s a vice admiral on the island,” she said, glancing up at Marco with an unreadable expression. “Care to explain?” 

“Ace’s grandfather, Monkey D. Garp.”

“Garp, huh?” she said, cracking a wry smile. “I haven’t heard that name in decades. I figured Ace’s brother to be kin to him by name, but never knew of any grandchildren.”

“Luffy is Dragon’s son, yoi.”

Willow sighed at that, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. “Well, as long as he’s not here to cause trouble for us, I suppose his presence posses no harm,” she said. “Do tell him that I said hello.”

“Will do,” Marco said, dismissing himself. He very much did not want to know about the history that existed between the two, only recognizing the fact that Willow had spent forty of her sixty years on earth as a pirate. 

  
  
  


He went straight home after that, and was surprised to find that the only occupants inside were none other than Garp, Ambrosio and a fussy Roux. Ace, Makino and Dadan were nowhere to be found. Why they’d left the kids with him was beyond Marco, but he determined that he would soon find out. 

“Where’s Ace, yoi?” he asked, removing his sandals as Ambrosio hurried over to give him a big hug, clinging to him like he always did.

“They left to the market to get some variety for this one,” he said, baby powder all over him as he finished changing her. “She eats a lot, and she’s got a few teeth which means she’s around nine to ten months old. Formula ain’t going to do it for her.” 

“I’m surprised you could tell,” Marco said, watching as Garp picked her up, setting her down on the living room floor. 

“I know some things,” he argued, cracking a large grin as Roux began to crawl steadily towards Marco. “I see what she wants most right now.”

“Dad, she can pull herself up!” Ambrosio exclaimed, crouching down beside him as he urged Roux to come to him. “Watch!”

Marco did as told, watching as Roux changed course for Ambrosio. The more Ambrosio cheered her own, the more excited Roux grew. By the time she reached him down by the coffee table, she was babbling like a madman and giggling. 

“Come on, Roux! Stand up!”

Roux focused all of her attention on the coffee table in front of her, using all of her might to pull herself up into a standing position, and even though she wore only a fresh new diaper, she looked as though she’d just conquered the world. Ambrosio offered her his hands, and she took them in an instant, her small ones in his. Marco felt an overwhelming sense of pride watching the two of them work together.

“See, dad!”

“What a good girl you are, Roux,” he said, chuckling warmly as he picked the girl up. 

“She’s a strong one,” Garp said, a certain fondness to his face then, “and fast as hell. She’ll be walking in no time.”

“I bet,” Marco said, nuzzling her nose with his. “Would you like to help me with my work, little one?”

Roux simply squeezed his cheeks in between her hands in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes, yoi,” he said, ambling over to his makeshift work space in the far corner of the living room which held most of the natural lighting.

“What about me?” Ambrosio asked, arms crossed and a small pout to his lips. Like Ace to a fault.

“Don’t pretend that you got any of your schoolwork done yesterday.”

“How could I?!” he exclaimed, looking abashed at having been caught. “A lot was going on!”

“Which is why you need to get it done and out of the way now, yoi. You go back to school tomorrow.” 

“I _ hate _math.”

“And it probably hates you, too, but you need it. Can’t set sail if you can’t do basic math, yoi. You’ll end up stranded with no money to your name on the first day.”

Garp let out a full bellied laugh at that. “Come on, brat,” he said, walking over to the kitchen table. “I’ll help you with it.”

“After I’m done, can I go play with Clementine?” he asked, grabbing a juice box out of the fridge.

“Did you ask Honeydew, yoi?”

“Yes, yoi,” Ambrosio said, mockingly until Marco shot him down with a mere look. “She really did say it was okay. They’re having a picnic down by the river.” 

Marco sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Fine, yoi,” he said.

  
  
  


Marco worked on updating patient charts he’d brought home with him and reading over a new medical journal or two that Quill had given to him two days prior. His mind kept wandering over to Ambrosio and his sudden attitude change. It was not at all common. Garp waited until Ambrosio left to speak up on the matter. Marco didn’t really want to hear it, but kept his earlier promise for the sake of his marriage. 

“He’s jealous,” Garp said with a short chuckle. “Ace was the same damn way.”

“He likes her, though. Why would he be jealous, yoi?”

“I’m guessing you were an only child.” 

Marco grimaced at that. “Yes,” he said, noticing that Roux appeared intent on sticking his ink pen in her mouth and drooling all over it. 

“He loves her, and he wants to play with and protect her, but he’s not used to having to share your attention. That’ll take some getting used to.”

Marco hummed, conceding that the man might just be right. “I suppose, yoi,” he said. “I’ll have to talk to Ace about making sure we pick and choose things to do with him where it’s just us and him alone.”

Silence fell over the room then, but it didn’t last long.

“Believe it or not, I love that boy, and I haven’t been able to properly do my duty to its fullest ever since that day,” Garp said, and at first, Marco thought he meant Ambrosio, but then it dawned on him that he was talking about Ace and Marineford. 

Before Marco could comment; however, the front door swung open and Ace, Makino and Dadan walked in carrying an array of groceries. Ace wore a dazzling smile, laughing at something Dadan said, but all Marco could notice was how content he appeared. His face lit up further when he spotted Marco with Roux.

“Marco, the ink!” he shouted, but it was all too late.

Roux had knocked over the pot, and now she and Marco’s pants were covered in black ink. Marco expected Ace to fret, much like he did when Ambrosio put his head through the wall after wrestling with Luffy and Sabo, but he began laughing instead. After a moment, Marco began to laugh, too. 

“Oh, no,” Ace said, taking Roux into his outstretched arms. “Someone needs a bath right away.”

“I’ll fill the sink,” Makino said, handing her own son over to Dadan.

“Marco, you’re gonna need to wash up as well,” Ace said, leaning down to kiss him, a smile still corrupting his lips. “Where the hell’s our son, by the way?”

“He went with Honeydew and Clementine for a picnic,” Marco said, trying to be mindful of where he stepped when he noticed just _ how _much ink had been spilled all over his lap. “You mind getting me a towel and a new pair of shorts, yoi?” 

Ace ginned as he stood up and onto the tips of his toes, lips pressed against the shell of Marco’s ear. “The only thing I can’t do is get in the shower with you, but that can change tonight,” he said, and Marco felt his entire face heat up.

“_ Brat_,” he said, muttering to himself as he walked past Garp and Dadan sitting at the kitchen table, praying they didn’t overhear a word of that.

  
  
  


Marco forgot his disgruntlement, stripped down and standing under the hot spray of water, focusing on trying to get the ink off his skin. In a way, it reminded him of Teach’s power, causing him to panic for a moment. He hadn’t thought about _ that _man in almost a year, and he didn’t want to start now. The door to the bathroom opened, and the blonde breathed a sigh of relief. He let the water fall over his head, shaking all residual thoughts and feelings away, forcing himself to focus on the present. 

“I put your shorts next to the sink,” Ace said, placing the towel he’d fetched over the rod that held the light blue shower curtain up, “and here’s your towel.”

“Thanks, yoi,” he said, but even he recognized how distant he sounded.

Ace pulled the curtain back, a small frown to his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Marco realized how well Ace could read him now, giving his husband a soft smile. “I was just thinking,” he said.

“About what?”

“Nothing good, yoi.”

“Well, stop it,” Ace said, and Marco could only laugh. 

“Will do,” he said, acknowledging the fact that Ace’s gaze was no longer on his face, but on his shoulders and pecs, and moving south fast.

“Hey, Marco.”

“Hmm?”

“You should kiss me.”

“I should kiss you, yoi?”

“Yes.”

“Why shouldn’t I wait for you to kiss me instead?”

“Because I’ll climb into that shower right now with all my clothes on.”

“You give me no choice, then,” Marco said, leaning out of the shower so that he could press a chaste kiss to Ace’s lips, but that wasn’t enough for Ace who cupped either side of Marco’s face, bringing him down as he teased the seal of the blonde’s lips with the tip of his tongue.

Marco gave in, meeting Ace’s tongue with his own as the younger of the two deepened it. The desire to touch, to hold him...it was all consuming, and Marco was weak to it; to him. Ace’s hands slid down along Marco’s abs, one of them straying dangerously close to his inner thigh.

“_ Ace_,” he warned, pulling away so that his husband wouldn’t come any closer unless he wanted to get drenched.

That was not something Marco wanted to try and explain to their guests. 

Ace let out a low whine. “I’m uncomfortably aroused,” he said with a low groan. 

“Who’s fault is that, yoi?” 

“Yours for being so incredibly hot,” he said with a childish pout. “If I can find a way to make them leave—”

“Ace, get out of the bathroom,” Marco said, chuckling as he shut the curtain. “Be patient, yoi.”

“I’m going to see if Ambrosio wants to spend the night with Clementine.”

“You do that, yoi.”

  
  
  


Marco cleaned up as best as he could, but there remained a stubborn spot along his inner calf. He dried his hair, praying that Ace had better results with Roux considering the girl was covered nearly head-to-toe. He put on a pair of khaki shorts that Ace selected for him, forgoing a shirt as he exited the bathroom.

Garp, Makino and Dadan nowhere to be found. 

“Where is everyone, yoi?” he asked, enjoying the sight of Ace laying on the sofa with Roux situated on top of him, her head drooping with sleep.

“They left to go get lunch,” Ace said, keeping his voice low as he carefully sat up, “and to make sure Shanks didn’t get too rowdy.”

“It’s probably too late for that, yoi,” Marco said, chuckling as Ace did the same. “She needs a nap.”

“Yeah, she’s getting cranky,” he said, moving to his feet.

Why Ace looked even more attractive holding their small daughter, Marco had no idea, but it made him distressingly hot and bothered. Honestly, they hadn’t been able to find much alone time in the past three weeks or so, and it showed. 

“She loves this baby swing Honeydew brought over,” he said, placing her in the makeshift playroom they’d set up in the living room. Marco knew he needed to reach out to Daffodil and Flint like he’d done with Ambrosio, and he didn’t look forward to the headache that would bring, but it would be well worth it. “She really likes being rocked to sleep.”

“Makes sense,” Marco said, noticing that Ace had put her in a white dress with red roses printed on it. Considering who gifted the clothes to them, the blonde wasn’t surprised. Roux looked precious, though, and Marco knew then that she would have them both wrapped around her little finger in no time.

“Oh, by the way, Honeydew said it was fine if Ambrosio stayed the night,” he said, standing up. “So we only have to bring him a change of clothes and his school work for tomorrow.”

“I can do that, yoi,” Marco said, turning towards the kitchen table where Ambrosio had left said work. “I just need a bag to put his clothes in.”

Marco paused in his search when two very warm, very strong arms wrapped around the mid of his waist, pulling him until his back met Ace’s chest. The blonde melted into his hold in an instant, enjoying the soft kisses pressed along the side of his neck, down across his shoulder blades. Ace had no intentions of letting Marco go anytime soon, not that the blonde minded.

“You’re not going anywhere just yet,’’ Ace said, sinking his teeth into the side of Marco’s neck, marking him.

“Oh?” Marco asked, peering over his shoulder at Ace with an inquisitive look, “and how do you propose to stop me, yoi?”

“Depends,” Ace said, nipping at Marco’s earlobe. “How do you want me?”

Marco groaned at that, thoroughly defeated.

“You are relentless,” he said, turning around to face his husband head-on.

Ace gave him a devious smile in return. “I had to be with you, remember?” he asked, crowding Marco back against the kitchen table.

The first kiss they ever shared involved Ace backing Marco into a corner in his personal quarters, yanking him down by the collar of his dress shirt. Of course, Marco had still been in turmoil over his feelings for the boy then, but Ace proved merciless in his pursuit of him. Marco could still taste a hint of rum when he thought back to it.

“How could I forget, yoi?”

“I went back to my room that night and fucked myself hard on my own fingers to thoughts of you after you sent me away,” he said, breath warm against the side of Marco’s neck.

Marco couldn’t say he’d handled that night much better, having jerked off furiously afterwards. The following evening had him drunkenly spilling his guts to both Thatch and Izo who decidedly took no pity on him. In fact, they more than likely counseled Ace to keep chipping away at Marco’s limited resolve until he fell to pieces, and fell to pieces, he did.

“I want you naked and in bed right now, yoi,” he commanded, shoving off the table to follow right behind him.

“How—”

“On your stomach.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ace moaned, face down on their bed, realizing that he’d pushed Marco a little _ too _far. 

Which was exactly what he wanted. 

“You’re an absolute brat,” he said, climbing on top of the bed as he opened the nightstand with one hand, the other cupping Ace’s ass through the material of his shorts, “and a demanding one at that.”

Ace didn’t refute his claim, groaning as he shimmied his hips back, teasing Marco in the process. Marco set the lubricant aside for the time being, placing his knees on either side of Ace’s hips, effectively caging him in as he ground his hips down against Ace’s ass. The added layer of clothing only fueled their mounting need to consume and be consumed. 

“_Marco_,” Ace moaned, his head tilted to one side as his husband stole a kiss, dragging his teeth along the side of the dark haired man’s neck. 

Marco ignored the other’s pleas in favor of pressing kiss after kiss down along the notches of Ace’s spine, tugging Ace’s shorts and underwear off in a few, rough motions. Ace eagerly kicked them off the rest of the way, and Marco could only let out a small huff of laughter at the other’s impatience. He couldn’t blame him, but it didn’t mean he was going to rush things either, leisurely taking in Ace’s naked figure beneath him.

What a treat that was.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, yoi,” he said, determined to praise his husband until Ace threatened to come undone from that alone.

“_Marco_,” Ace whined, trying to push himself up, but it was futile with Marco keeping him pinned.

“You’re going to take what I give you,” he said, lips flush against Ace’s ear. “Behave.”

Ace audibly swallowed at that, and Marco hummed in appreciated at the other’s subtle submissiveness. It wouldn’t last long, it never did, but for the moment, it was enough. He sunk his teeth into Ace’s side where waist met hip, enjoying the subtle jolt and low groan the action wrought. 

He was working Ace up, making him keep in desperation each and every time he ignored what the other truly wanted most. 

“Marco, come on,” he said, panting as Marco grabbed a handful of Ace’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart before massaging them together again. “_Please_.”

“I admit,” he said, uncapping the bottle of lube as he coated his fingers with it. “You’re hard to resist like this, yoi. I want to tease, draw it out, but that’ll have to wait until the others are gone, huh?” 

“_Yes_,” Ace said, practically chanted as Marco worked him open, nice and slow until the other was feeling full, but not overwhelmed.

Three fingers deep, Ace’s body jerked when Marco hit his prostate, and then again when the blonde continued to abuse the spot, content to listen to the other’s breathy pants and groans. He contemplated just finishing Ace off like this, but his own hardened length twitched with true, sudden need, and he couldn’t ignore his own desire to be seated fully inside that warm, welcoming body. Ace cried out in both despair and relief when Marco withdrew his fingers, flipping Ace over and onto his back so that both their eyes and lips met. Marco undid his pants in record time, slicking himself up as he propped one of Ace’s long legs up over his shoulder, sliding into him. The loud cry Ace emitted was swallowed whole by Marco’s mouth, his teeth sinking into Ace’s bottom lip to help keep him quiet. 

“Start moving,” Ace said, brows furrowed as Marco stilled inside him. “Marco, fuck me!” 

Marco bit his neck instead, rearing his hips back before slamming forward again, causing the bed to shake underneath them. Ace moaned at that, placing his other leg over Marco’s hip, his dominant hand fisting his hardened length, the other covering his mouth. Marco let out a malicious sort of chuckle, pounding into the body beneath him without a thread of mercy.

“I assume you just remembered that you need to keep your voice down,” he said, teasing one of Ace’s nipples with both teeth and tongue, delighting in the all over body shiver it produced. “Too bad I’m not going to make it easy for you, yoi.”

And he didn’t.

Marco made it a point to reduce Ace to a trembling, whimpering mess, bringing him close to the edge before taking a step back. The blonde loved nothing more than to keep Ace on edge, watching him struggle and plead for release. The tears that gathered along dark lashes like diamonds only sweetened the deal, making Marco a cruel, cruel man.

“Marco, I can’t—” Ace choked, his cheeks and chest flushed a pretty shade of red, his hair a mess of dark curls as he panted for breath, legs shaking. “_Please_.”

“Please, what?”

“Fuck! Please let me come!”

Marco decided to reward Ace’s good behavior, hitting his prostate over and over again while jerking him off in tandem. The way Ace eyes slammed shut, the way his jaw slackened, tongue sliding across his abused bottom lip, and his back arched as he came was an absolute feast for hazy, lust filled eyes. Ace clenched down around him, milking him through his own release.

The blonde went to pull away, to go and retrieve something to clean them up with, but Ace had other ideas, pulling him down for a lingering kiss that devolved into steadily making out. Marco couldn’t resist, tugging Ace’s bottom lip in between his teeth while the other dragged his nails down across the blonde’s back. A loud knock at the front door propelled them apart.

“_Shit_,” Ace cursed, trying to catch his breath.

Marco attempted to regain his composure, cleaning up with quick efficiency before getting dressed. He threw Ace a wet washcloth, pressing a kiss to his right temple in apology as he rushed out their bedroom, closing the door behind him so that Ace could get dressed. He peered over at Roux, relieved to find her still fast asleep in her swing.

He opened the front door to see Dadan shouldering an inebriated Shanks. He bit back the laugh that threatened to emerge, placing his index finger over his lips, shushing them. 

“Roux’s asleep,” he said, and Makino seemed to understand.

“Then we’ll come back by for dinner,” she said with a sincere smile.

Marco heard the bedroom door open, a sheepish Ace approaching. “That’s fine, yoi,” he said.

“This one needs to sleep it off anyway,” Dadan argued. “By the way, Marco, you look like you got mauled by a tiger.”

Marco tried not to grimace as Ace let out a muffled wail of embarrassment. Shanks and Dadan laughed readily at them as Garp bellowed and Makino blushed furiously.

“This’ll be the last meal we share with you, brat,” Garp said, ignoring Marco in favor of his grandson. “We’ve got to set sail by tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” Ace asked, and Marco could head the disappointment in his voice.

“Can’t risk it, kid,” Shanks said, slurring just so. “Garp needs to report back and I’ve got a crew to attend to.”

“I’ll come around four or five to help get dinner started, okay?” Makino said, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ll make dessert.”

“Sounds great, yoi,” Marco said, waving the group off. “Thank you, Makino.”

  
  


After shutting the door, Marco turned to ask Ace if he was okay, but found the other’s lips on his instead. Marco’s hands found their way around Ace’s waist, while the other’s groped the blonde’s ass. Marco went along with it, but quickly found it prevalent to breathe.

“Was once not enough for you, yoi?”

Ace grinned up at him, his tongue tracing his bottom lip. “Was it for you?” he asked, and Marco knew then that he was in trouble.

  
  


The evening found them all seated around the kitchen table, eating a refreshing fish stew, or moqueca baiana as Makino called it. He’d cut up fruits, vegetables and a white fish fillet with limited seasoning for Roux, trying to get a feel for what she liked and what she didn’t. She enjoyed the fish, papaya and avocado, but did not appear at all interested in snow peas or cauliflower, which Marco couldn’t blame her for.

Strawberries seemed to be what she liked best, and so Marco encouraged her to eat as much of it as she could. Roux appeared to be pretty good at picking things up, using her small grip to shovel food into her mouth while laughing. She appeared to be dominantly left handed and if she were, that would be something she shared with both Ambrosio as well as Shanks.

“Maybe she likes strawberries so much because it matches her hair,” Shanks mused, taking a long draw from his mug.

“Her hair’s not _ that _red,” Ace argued, trying to wipe Roux’s mouth where an excess of juice and drool ran down her chin. “She’s not like you.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

  
  


Marco helped Dadan to clean up as Ace, Garp, Shanks and Makino played with the children in the living room. Garp seemed quite smitten with Roux, bringing her up over his head as he pretended to make her fly, and by the fit of laughter that followed, Roux appeared to be enjoying herself immensely. Marco only prayed that all this playing would help to tire her out for the night.

“I’ve never seen that bastard smile like that,” Dadan said, drying dishes, “and I’ve known him for years...a lot longer than I’d like.”

“Maybe he would have done better if he’d had girls instead of boys, yoi.”

The large woman let out a deep laugh at that, punching Marco in the shoulder. “You’re a funny one, Marco,” she said. “I like you. You’re good for our Ace.”

_ Our Ace. _

These people truly loved and cared for his husband, and even if it was in a truly bizarre way, they still did. Makino and Dadan were Ace’s only maternal figures, and even though Shanks was closer to Luffy, it was clear he kept close tabs on his former captain’s son. Garp, too, had made and kept his promise to Roger, caring for the boy after Rouge lost her life in order to give Ace his.

His manners, his grit, his ability to survive...so much of it came from them, and even though it wasn’t perfect, it made Ace who he was, and who he was, Marco loved. In a really strange way, Marco felt grateful to all of them for caring in their own way. If it weren’t for Roger’s lineage haunting him, Ace might have been spared from the aches and pains he carried deep inside his heart; the wounds.

And now Marco would have to tell him that it was his father’s doings that kept him from harm’s way most of his life; his father’s doing that he received a second chance. For now; however, he watched only as Ace enjoyed himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very long, very family oriented chapter.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Holiday junk, and I got really sick. Still am, actually. lol

“I know I wasn’t a good grandfather. Hell, I wasn’t even a good father, but maybe, just maybe I can pull off being a great grandfather to these brats,” Garp said, dressed in a floral button up, khaki shorts and sandals with socks, holding Roux in one arm and Ambrosio in the other. 

The old man was strong, Marco would give him that. The blonde found himself preoccupied with a wailing Dadan, her immense strength doubled by equally strong emotions. Shanks offered no help, simply laughing at his plight while holding his own son.

“Dadan, you’ve got him in a headlock,” Makino said, urging the other woman to let Marco go.

“I’m just heartbroken, is all,” she said, letting Marco go in order to wipe her face where tears were still streaming.

Ace could only laugh and smile, embracing the large woman as she picked him up off the ground. “I promise to keep in contact,” he said, trying to placate her.

“You better!”

After she placed Ace back down, he resumed talking with Garp who appeared much more relaxed than Marco had ever expected. The man was a marine, and while Marco would never forget that, he acknowledged his relationship to Ace, and by extension, their children. A hard pill to swallow, but Marco did his best to keep it down.

“They both seem to like you,” Ace said, taking Roux from him as Ambrosio played with Garp’s ridiculous mustache. 

“You gonna visit us again, old man?” he asked, and Marco could only snort at the blatant disrespect, earning him an elbow to the side from Ace. 

_Ambrosio_,” Ace warned, trying to keep Roux’s adventurous fingers out of his mouth.

“What should I call him, then?”

“Gramps is fine,” Ace reasoned. “That’s what I call him.”

Ambrosio looked back at Garp. “You gonna visit us again, gramps?” he asked.

“If it’s okay with your folks,” Garp said, eyeing Marco wearily.

“We’d like that, yoi,” Marco said before Ace could, determined to be the bigger person.

“What he said,” Ace said, bumping his shoulder with his, taking one of Marco’s hands into his own.

“Well then, I’ll see what I can do,” he said, placing Ambrosio down before facing Marco. “You take good care of my grandson.”

“With my life, yoi.”

“Oh, Ace,” Makino said, embracing the man who once stood shorter than herself. A child she’d watched grow into a young man. “Please take care of yourself. We love you so, so much.”

“I-I love you guys, too,” he said, holding her tight. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Anytime, kid,” Shanks said, that infamous lopsided grin back into place.

  
  
  


The family of four returned home after that, save Ambrosio who went back to class for the rest of the day. Marco watched Ace the entire way home, noticing how deep in thought he appeared to be. He wondered what plagued his mind, but determined that if Ace wanted to talk about it, he would.

Marco found himself trying to prepare for what he needed to say as well, trying to decide the most opportune time to do so, and drawing a blank. His thoughts were interrupted; however, when Jade called out to him from the front of Clover’s house, drawing their attention. He wondered if Clover was in need of assistance.

“Marco, there you are!” he said, dark eyes twinkling under the sunlight. “Willow-san was looking for you earlier while I was checking the mail. She said it was important but not urgent, whatever that means.”

Marco smiled down at the teen. “Thank you, Jade,” he said, turning back towards Ace. “I need to head over to Willow’s, but I’ll be home before lunch.”

“Okay,” he said, readjusting Roux over to his left hip. “Anything I can help with?”

“No, I just needed her help translating something,” he said, pressing a kiss to Ace’s cheek before doing the same to Roux. “I figure she was able to do so, or she’s going to tell me it’s hopeless.”

Ace laughed at that. “Don’t doubt her, Marco,” he said, nose scrunched up. “She’s a linguist after all.”

“You’re right, yoi.”

And, in fact, Ace was right.

  
  
  


“Aves,” Willow said, dressed in a long silk gray bathrobe and matching slippers. 

“...Aves?”

“Yes, that’s the last documented name of the sky island this letter hailed from,” she said, readjusting her glasses as she peered down at the stacks of paper that littered her desk. “I swore it looked familiar, and then I found a book left over from a wreckage I encountered in West Blue over twenty years ago.”

“When Roger’s crew landed there, there was only one person left on the entire island.”

“Yes, the _ gifting of the birds _, they called it. I never got to see it for myself, but I’ve been around for a long time, Marco. I’ve heard things. Hell, I’ve read them.” 

“So you were able to translate the passage?”

“It took all night, but yes. The dialect is different, but I got the gist,” she said, handing Marco a new slip of paper with her neat script on it.

_ Roger, bringer of thunder. _

_ Rogue, bringer of rain. _

_ In the sky, _

_ Intertwined, _

_ Shall they forever remain. _

_ Birds within eyesight, _

_ Thy son’s death shall not be in vain. _

_ Alone in flight, _

_ A phoenix awaits. _

Marco read and reread the short poem, wracking his brain to try and understand what the message it entailed. After a moment, he met Willow’s gaze.

“If I’m reading this correctly, Roger isn’t the only one who’s involved in all this,” he said, at last.

“No, apparently Ace’s mother is as well,” she said, a hint of a smile hinging upon her lips, “but notice the last line. The mentioning of a phoenix waiting. Isn’t that what you were doing before Ace’s return?”

“How...”

“Obviously, it’s a prophecy of some sort,” Willow said, handing Marco the original copy as well. “You’re a mythical zoan, Marco. A _ bird _. A protector of sorts destined to care for the Pirate King's son.”

Marco didn’t believe in prophecies, but the facts were hard to argue against.

“But I didn’t,” he said, trying to keep his hands from balling into tight fists. “I didn’t protect him. He _ died _.”

“His death is noted in the prophecy as well,” Willow pointed out. “Phoenix’s are noted as symbols of rebirth. Ace’s love for you deterred his acceptance of death, and thus, he was reborn. He was given back to you...placed into _ your _care.”

Marco could only nod his head in understanding, rubbing his chin as he read it all over again. “Thank you, Willow-san,” he said.

“Oh, drop the honorifics already,” she said with a laugh. “Just promise me that you’ll pass this information along to that darling husband of yours.”

“Of course,” he said, and he wondered why everyone questioned whether or not he would tell Ace the truth.

  
  


“There you are,” Ace said, using Roux’s arms to wave at Marco as they lounged on the sofa, reading. Well, Ace reading to Roux. “Say hi, daddy!”

Marco couldn’t help but grin at that, leaning down to kiss Ace on the mouth. Roux grabbed at his dress shirt, tugging on it as Marco laughed, kissing the top of her head. 

“Hello, little one,” he said, crouching down so that he could tickle her sides. She threw her head back, laughing and wiggling around. “What a happy baby you are, huh? You hardly ever cry, yoi.”

Ace could only watch the two of them with a fond smile, and Marco could only wish for more moments like these in the future. He sat back, playing with Roux’s feet as she kicked at him.

“How did it go with Willow?” Ace asked, and Marco felt his pulse flutter.

“Well, she was able to translate it for me,” he said.

“See, told you,” Ace said, sticking out his tongue in a childish manner.

“Speaking of which,” Marco said, taking one of Ace’s hands into his own, sealing a kiss across his knuckles. “We need to talk later tonight.”

“Oh?” Ace said, brows furrowed slightly. “About what?”

Marco sighed. “The paper I needed translated...it’s a letter that Sabo gave to me,” he said, watching Ace’s face carefully. “It was addressed to your mother from a shaman that lived on the same island as the Thunderbird.”

Ace’s features twisted into one of full-blown confusion. “My mom has something to do with the bird?” he asked.

“Your father, too,” Marco said, taking Roux onto his lap as Ace sat up. “When Shanks was here, he told me about it as well. Apparently, Roger saved the bird when they were on a sky island in search of medicine for him.

“What does the message say?” he asked, relatively calm at that moment, but Marco knew that that could change.

“Like I said, I want to discuss it later tonight after we put the kids to bed, yoi,” he said, bouncing Roux up and down on his knee.

“Fine,” Ace said, relenting for the time being.

  
  
  


Of course, that didn’t stop Ace from brooding over it for the rest of the day. Marco expected as much; however, taking over most of the household chores while Ace took care of Roux. Later on, Marco left to go pick Ambrosio up.

  
  
  


“_Dad_!” Ambrosio exclaimed, lunging for his father. “I’m _ starving _! Also, I’m tired! I need a nap!”

“A long day, huh?” Marco asked, smiling down at the boy as he clung to Marco’s leg. It felt nice to have some alone time with him now that everyone was gone. 

Marco could tell that Ace felt anxious the longer the day dragged on. Marco cooked dinner while Ace helped Ambrosio with his schoolwork, but his husband didn;t stop there. No, Ace went on to tend to his ever flourishing garden, planting a few new hibiscus flowers that Mirabelle had gifted him. After that, he washed the laundry before folding some of the clothes while hanging up the rest. He ate little that evening, and then announced that Ambrosio and Roux both needed a bath.

In keeping with the peace, Ambrosio did as told with no fuss, offering to help Ace bathe Roux first. Ace relented, and the two set about their task. Marco could only sigh and try to stay out of Ace’s way, working at his desk much longer than he intended to. He planned to head over to Luna’s place the following day, locating all of his notes in regards to her and her treatment. 

Finally, nighttime fell, and both Ace and Marco dressed down for the evening; Marco in a loose pair of navy blue sweat pants and Ace in a tight pair of black briefs he knew drove Marco near mad with lust. The man did not play fair when he demanded answers, and answers Marco would give him. Instead of getting into bed as usual, Marco pulled a large manila folder out of his nightstand that contained everything he knew about Ace’s rebirth.

“You ready, yoi?”

Ace turned to face him, his lips pulled into a tight line, brows furrowed. “I’ve been ready,” he bit, “You’ve been the one holding back on me.”

Marco sighed, again. “I didn’t want to hold it back from you,” he said, studying Ace’s face in full. “I just wanted to wait until I had all the facts,” he said, “or, at least, most of them.”

Before Ace could respond, Marco produced two pieces of paper. One new and the other old and frail. He handed him the old one first, the one addressed to Ace’s mother, Rouge. Ace took the delicate piece of paper, studying it with a critical eye. Marco knew that Ace couldn’t read it, but he also knew that it held a special place in his heart. He waited patiently. 

“What does it mean?” he asked, murmuring.

“Here,” Marco said, handing Ace Willow’s copy with the translation of it.

Ace took it, and read it carefully. His face was tense, fingers gripping the paper tightly. Marco feared he might rip it up in a fit of anger, but he began to laugh instead. 

A disbelieving laugh, at that.

“Why are you laughing, yoi?” he asked, concerned about the other’s state of mind. 

“Because this makes so much sense now,” he said.

“How, yoi?”

Ace leaned back, settling against the headboard with a huff. “When I was little, I was notorious for running rampant,” he said, chuckling. “I used to get into some serious trouble. I’m talking about life and death situations, Marco. Mostly death, to be honest, but just before I met my maker, there would always be a bird of some sort there to save me, or warn me of oncoming danger. I just thought I was a target for them, but I guess they were really trying to help me,” he said, laughing still as tears gathered along his lash line. 

Marco gazed over at him with a sense of awe and gratitude. “Your parents have always been there for you, yoi,” he said. 

Ace wiped his eyes then, leaning forward to kiss Marco with an intensity he only displayed when he felt frazzled and ungrounded, but this was different. “You, too,” he said, staring deeply into tranquil blue eyes. “Alone in flight, a phoenix awaits.”

“_ Ace— _”

“You’re my phoenix, aren’t you...Marco?”

Marco could only steal Ace’s mouth in a ravenous kiss akin to a starving man. If Ace required a phoenix to be strong enough to care for and protect him, then he would do so at all cost. The feel of Ace’s warmth and love was all that Marco could ever need.

In some sense, by giving Marco that piece of paper, Sabo had given them their blessing.

Shanks, too, for that matter. In his own way.

All Marco needed in this world was Ace. All he needed to do was to protect and cherish this man who’d given him so much. He needed to _ live _again. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I really haven't had a day off since Thanksgiving. I have one more chapter before this story is complete, which makes me sad, but incredibly happy at the same time.

“Dad!  _ Daddy _ ! Wake up!”

Marco’s weary eyes snapped opened, back ramrod straight as he sat up with a surprising sort of immediacy, startled as his heart began to pound. He blinked once, twice, three times until his glasses came into a bleary sort of focus on the nightstand beside him. He reached over for them, placing them on as he peered down at his rather disgruntled looking six year old son.

“What, yoi? What is it?” he asked, trying to brush out the child’s unruly curls. It was about time for another haircut, dreadfully enough for him and the poor woman tasked with cutting it.

“Roux’s up, and I can’t get her to go back to sleep! She’s throwing things around!” the boy exclaimed, his face contorted into the utmost displeasure. 

Marco picked the sleepy child up, placing him in between Ace and himself, fortunate enough that Ace chose to wear clothes the evening prior. “Get comfy with papa,” he said, sitting up and out of bed. “I’ll handle the little one.”

“The little monster!” Ambrosio muttered, clinging to Ace who shushed him back to sleep, rubbing his back with soothing circles. 

What a way to start off their one year anniversary, he mused, plodding over to Roux’s newly furnished bedroom. A soft opera mauve with white trimming filled to the brim with toys, learning tools, ink, paper and pens all over the place. She was as intelligent and creative as she was destructive. She stood up, hands clenching the bars of her crib with a forceful grip, hollering and cursing at him in her own special way. Ace tried to discourage her from such behavior, but Marco found it far too amusing to dissuade the child from doing so.

“Come, yoi,” he said, picking her up in her white, long sleeve onesie, checking her diaper just in case, but found nothing to be amiss. “What’s the matter, hmm? You hungry for food, yoi?”

Her freckled face and honeycomb colored eyes lit up at the sound of that. She knew the word food, and she knew it quite well. The last time Marco had weighed her, she clocked in at twenty-three pounds and three ounces, making her a little more than four pounds overweight. Ace didn’t seem to mind one bit; however, often calling her his “chunky monkey” as he swung her to and fro, pinching her rounded cheeks whenever he got the chance to do so. Ambrosio considered it extra weight training to make sure he grew up to be big and strong enough to protect her no matter what. Marco laughed the early morning thought away, helping Roux to peel her a banana while he set down a sweet potato muffins he and Ace had made the night before. 

If anyone were to be headstrong and burly, it would be the child right before his eyes, mashed food all over her face and onesie. She would most definitely need a new one now, and so Marco set about finding it. In the end, he chose a navy blue short sleeve onesie with a monkey covering its eyes; it looked incredibly adorable, and Marco would not, could not deny otherwise. 

“Come on now, yoi,” he said, propping the girl up and onto his hip, wiping her chin clean with a wet cloth. “Let’s get some more rest before the day  _ really  _ starts, okay?” 

The loose platelets that Ace had braided her hair into the night before were quickly coming undone in certain places, he noted. Marco figured that he would need to undo them and pick her hair out before Honeydew and Clementine came to pick the kids up so that Ace and Marco could enjoy some alone time together. He felt a tad bit bad about asking this of her, happy to learn that Honeydew herself had met a shipwright by the name of Galen who’d settled down on Sphinx to stay permanently. He’d instantly fallen head-over-heels for Honeydew and little Clementine, and understood all that the woman had been put through prior, intent on taking things slow. Their courtship was the talk of the village, and of course Galen was made well aware of what had happened to Honeydew’s previous husband after he tried to brutally stab her to death.

Galen knew and loved each and every scar Honeydew had endured. 

Marco liked the man quite well, and wish nothing but the best for them.

Marco trodden into the bedroom he shared with his husband, watching him sprawled out and lightly snoring. Ambrosio snuggled eagerly against his papa’s side, one leg hooked over Ace’s hip. Marco settled back into bed as quietly and as peacefully as possible, rocking Roux back and forth until her head began to lull forward with sleep. The blonde enjoyed moments like these, when the four of them could lounge in bed covered in the soft hues of pinks, blues and oranges of the early morning light. He rolled over and onto his side, watching as Roux cuddled against Ambrosio’s backside, eager to hold onto her older brother as they slept for a few more hours.

  
  
  


“Marco,” Ace whispered, placing a chaste kiss to the blonde’s cheek over a sea of small children. “Time to get up, daddy. I need to get the kids up and ready to head over to Honeydew’s, love.”

“Call me  _ love  _ again, and I’ll even get up to make breakfast,” he mumbled, not realizing he’d forgotten to remove his glasses before falling back to sleep again.

Ace chuckled deeply at that, his voice soft and rasp filled as he said, “ _ Love _ ,” over and over again, rolling over on top of Marco after Ambrosio had gone to change Roux’s diaper. Marco’s hands roamed across Ace’s broad back, his fingers dancing along each and everyone of the other man’s ribs. Ace kissed him with a sleepiness about him that Marco found both captivating as well as stirring, but that would have to wait. 

“I’ll get the kids something quick to eat so that we can get them ready,” he said. “That way I can make you a proper breakfast once they’re out the door.”

Ace smiled sleepily down at him, a fullness to his lips that Marco could never quite get enough of, kissing him again and again. “A proper breakfast for little ol’ me?” he asked with a playful gleam in his eye.

Marco laughed at that, rolling the other man up and off of him so that they could get their day started. “I love you so much, Ace,” he said with a contented sigh, pressing his forehead against one of Ace’s bare shoulders. “I love you so much it nearly drives me insane sometimes.” 

Ace’s smile grew in size, his cheeks flushed, eyes wavering just so. “I love you, too, Marco,” he said, daring to kiss the other man again. “Happy anniversary.” 

“To one of many.”

“To one of many.”

  
  
  


Ace made a quick breakfast for Ambrosio of granola, fruit and oats, mixing it just the way he knew that their son liked it. Since Marco had already fed Roux earlier that morning, Ace chopped and diced a variety of fruit and veggies for her with different dipping sauces on the side. Honeydew arrived on time just as she always did, a cheerful Galen and Clementine in tow. While ten years her senior, you would never know it just by looking at the man and the zest he carried for life. Marco did honestly like the man, and felt relieved that Honeydew hadn’t allowed her past with Claude to diminish this newfound happiness. 

“Thank you so much for doing this for us, Honeydew!” Ace exclaimed, embracing the petite woman with an affectionate embrace. “You have no idea how much this means to us.” 

“It’s absolutely no problem!” she cheered, waving at Marco who stood behind their kitchen counter, gathering all of the ingredients, pots and pans needed in order to make Ace something special. “Oh, I brought over those flowers you ordered from Mirabelle, by the way!”

A beautiful series of gladiolus’, hyacinths, daffodils and bear breeches of various sizes and colors. Ace looked back at Marco with a mixture of adoration and abject surprise, taking them from Honeydew with careful consideration. In his spare time, Ace had taken to making all sorts of handmade vases, and some were so stunning that Marco deemed it necessary to fill them with equally brilliant flowers from his former home in West Blue or, at least, what was left of it. Ace placed them carefully into each one, setting them on top of the pantry he’d finally completed by himself after much cursing and many bruises. The rest were set in the center of their kitchen table where soon a wonderful, well thought out breakfast would be adorned. 

“Bye, papa!” Ambrosio exclaimed, wrapping his ever growing arms around the mid of Ace’s waist. “Bye, daddy!”

“Bye, Brosi,” Ace said, pressing a tender kiss to the top of Ambrosio’s head. 

“Bye, buddy,” Marco said with a cheerful wave and smile. “Be on your best behavior, yoi.”

“Of course, dad!”

“Bye!” Roux exclaimed, eyes watering as Honeydew bounced her back and forth, soothing her somewhat. Her separation anxiety nearly tore Ace’s poor heart out, but Marco wasn’t as unaffected as he appeared, he was simply better at hiding the pain it caused him. 

One of them had to.

Ace made sure to send them off with extra clothes and accessories just in case. He took a long soak while Marco slaved away in the kitchen as promised, working on a recipe that his father had taught him years beforehand, back when he was still a young boy with two parents to call his own. He tried not to let the thought dampen his mood so as not to taint the food he’d worked so hard to make.

This was all for Ace, afterall. 

Everything was for Ace.

Marco worked hard to make a healthy helping of graviera with honey, salted and smoked pork, sausages, fried eggs with staka, bougatsa and a pot of shepherd's tea to drink. After setting the table and opening the windowsill, he went to go check in on Ace’s soothing bath, content to find the man completely and utterly relaxed. A homemade facemask, scented oils of jasmine and lemongrass glistened across his sun kissed skin like some sort of god, making him look softer than he already did on a day-to-day basis. 

“You certainly look relaxed enough with those cucumber slices covering your eyes, yoi,” he said, chuckling as Ace jumped a little, sloshing water over the edge of the tub. 

“I’d be even more relaxed if a certain husband of mine would join me,” he said, lips pursing into the cutest of pouts. 

“No can do,” Marco said with a long suffering sigh. “Breakfast is ready and waiting, and this time it comes from my home island.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Ace asked, submerging under the water to rinse both his face as well as his hair.

Marco laughed at the audacity of the other man, but grabbed his husband a towel nonetheless. Ace took it eagerly, drying off as best as he could before putting on a fluffy white bathrobe Willow had gifted to him at random. Marco led the way, and felt oddly pleased with just how much Ace appeared to be salivating over copious amounts of meat. 

“What do you think?” Marco asked, taking a bite of fried egg with staka as Ace began his course with graviera and honey. 

“Marco, this is  _ amazing _ !” Ace exclaimed, sampling a little bit of everything. 

“I was worried that I wouldn’t remember how to do everything like my father used to,” he said with a shrug, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. It was rare for him to be this vulnerable that early in the morning. 

“Your dad would be proud,” Ace said, chewing thoughtfully before speaking for once. “You ready for this afternoon?”

Marco grinned from ear-to-ear at that. “You mean our one year anniversary tattoos that you concocted, yoi?” he asked. 

“Yeah, that!” Ace exclaimed, taking a large sip of tea from a droopy, lopsided mug Ambrosio handmade in school especially for him. “Cristobal is an amazing artist, by the way! I had no idea that the kid had so many talents.”

“Drawing has always been a passion of his,” Marco noted. “The tattooing; however, is a recent adventure.” 

“Have some faith in the poor boy.”

“If you knew the story behind the ink on my chest, you’d think lesser of me.”

“What, really?!” Ace asked, mouth full. “Tell me!”

“Every man has his secrets, dear.”

“Not from their husbands!”

“Especially from their husbands,” Marco said with a sneer. “Especially if said husband can’t keep a secret to save his life, yoi.”

“ _ Marco _ !”

  
  
  


Marco had visited what Cristobal considered to be his workshop a handful of times back when his father was still alive, and so much had changed in such little time. The walls were painted red, the trim black, and white and black linoleum tile lined the floors. Their were portraits of pinups; some nude, others scantily clad. The imagery didn’t seem to bother his younger sister one bit as she sat behind the counter, eating a large hamburger with an even larger bag of fries, washing it all down with a vanilla milkshake. Cybil wore her hair in two long pigtails with matching white bows, an off-putting sort of innocence for a place like this, Marco mused. 

“Ya guys here to get some work done, yeah?” she asked, tapping a pen to what appeared to be a logbook of some sort. “Cristobal! Marco and Ace are here! Ya done with their sketches yet, ya big dummy?!”

“Of course I am, ya damn brat! And watch your mouth, will you?!” Cristobal exclaimed, walking out from a backroom dressed only in a white tanktop and black jeans, a dirty towel slung over his shoulder. “Hey, Marco! Hey, Ace! Come take a look at what I’ve got and see if it’s to your liking, alright?”

“Sounds great,” Ace said, following after Cristobal with a certain eagerness about him.

If Ace felt somewhat jealous over Quill, than Marco felt an inkling of something ugly rearing its head whenever it came to Cristobal. The two were closer in age, similar in attitude, and overall more attractive together than apart, but Ace would never look at anyone else—this Marco knew for sure. They would make a good pair, great even, but it wasn’t Cristobal’s tattoo getting inked onto Ace’s skin, and it wasn’t  _ his  _ wedding band sat round Ace’s neck on a pretty gold chain. 

“ _ Wow _ !” Ace exclaimed, studying the light blue phoenix with yellow outlining its elegant wingspan he would soon bear along the inside of his right forearm. “This looks exactly like your phoenix form, doesn’t it, Marco?”

Cristobal laughed at that, the silver labret through his chin glinting under the bright light. “It should,” he said. “I’ve only seen him transform at least a dozen times by now.” 

Marco studied the Thunderbird that would forever be embedded on his inner left forearm, entranced by it just as he had been the day he’d seen it for himself. A beautiful mixture of black, gray and red; the beak elongated like a serrated blade. Perfect. 

“This is excellent work, Cristobal,” he said, patting the young man on the shoulder. “Thank you for doing this for us on such short notice.”

“No problem! Let’s get you guys all washed up and sterilize these tools after opening them, and then we can get started,” he said, motioning for one of them to take a seat first. 

In the end, it was Marco who sat down first. Cristobal used a seventy percent alcohol wipe to cleanse the area, and then proceeded to shave the fine hair from Marco’s arm to minimize the chance of any ingrown hairs during the healing process. Cristobal examined the canvas he had to work with, placing the design in the most aesthetically pleasing position that they both could agree on. The overall process took less than an hour and a half, shading and coloring included. Then again, Ace’s own tattoo would involve a lot more detail and color. 

Ace sat through his own experience with an amount of patience Marco didn’t believe him truly capable of. Then again, Marco hadn’t been present when Ace had inherited Pops’ mark upon his back, having been sent out on a scouting mission involving a marine base that they later attacked and plundered for supplies and high ranking officials. The ink across his back had been the inception of sin itself as far as Marco had been concerned.

The first opportunity Marco got to trace over it with an overzealous tongue would come a few months later, an equal fascination both men shared when it came to their respective marks, even now Ace’s hands tended to stray towards Marco’s chest. 

“You both know how this whole ink thing goes,” Cristobal said, removing his latex gloves as Ace stared down at his newly bandaged tattoo with a sense of wonder. “Remove the bandage after twenty-four hours, and then gently wash it with antimicrobial soap and water and then pat it dry with a clean— _ clean _ —towel. Apply a thin layer of antibacterial ointment two times a day, but no more covering it up until it’s fully healed, yeah?” 

“Not a problem, Cristobal,” Ace said, jumping out of the chair with an easygoing smile about him. “Thanks again! Here’s a tip for you, and we’ll be sure to pay the brat the rest of it up front.”

“ _ Hey _ !” Cybil shouted, straw sticking out of her mouth as she glared in their general vicinity. “I heard that!” 

“Good!” Cristobal hollered back. “You should learn some manners for once in your life! You’ve got one hour before violin practice, too, kid. So make it count.”

Marco could only smile and chuckle, pulling out his wallet to fetch a couple of beli in order to cover their expenses. He added an extra few for their rowdy receptionist with a sly wink and low whistle. Cybil happily accepted it.

  
  
  


“Marco,” Ace called, drawing the other’s attention once the pair were outside.

“Hmm?”

“I want to take you home.”

“Oh, do you now, yoi?” Marco asked, playing naive. “Whatever for?”

“I want to try out those massage oils I got from Mirabelle on you,” he said, mist gray eyes roaming over Marco’s figure with no sense of decency about himself. “”The coconut and hibiscus one.” 

“You’re just trying to get into my pants, yoi.”

“Oh, yeah, most definitely,” Ace said, ribbing him on, “but you’ve also been working really hard lately, and I wanna do something nice for you.”

“Ace.”

“You take care of the entire village, and the you come home and help with the kids, and then you work some more,” Ace said, taking hold of Marco’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “You deserve to relax, too, you know? You carry this island like an albatross around your neck, but you’re not alone anymore, Marco. I meant it when I said I’d happily be a doctor’s wife, so let me play out this fantasy of mine!”

Marco gave Ace’s hand a gentle kiss, acknowledging that he’d been asking too much out of the both of them without any rest in between. “You’re right, baby,” he said. “I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, huh?” Ace asked with the quirking of a brow.

“Or would you prefer the usual  _ brat _ ?”

Ace came to a standstill, pulling Marco closer to him by the ends of his dress shirt, kissing him hard on the mouth. “I’ll show you what this  _ brat  _ can do,” he said, tugging Marco’s bottom lip in between his teeth before letting go with the promise of more to come.

A year, and Marco felt as though he’d simply blinked.

  
  
  


Marco’s long limbs laid stretched nude across their bed. He laid flat on his stomach, his head cradled into the crook of his uninked arm as Ace straddled him from behind, naked as well. His hands were warm, a mixture of hibiscus, coconut oil and the warmth of the afternoon sun. Ace worked out each and every knot and crick, nevermind Marco’s Devil Fruit ability being capable of healing each of his aches and pains all on its own because this had nothing to do with that. None of that mattered now, anyhow, simply the caress of Ace’s hands touching him all over, every intimate sensation in every intimate way imaginable. 

Ace’s fingers began to knead the soft mound of flesh along Marco’s ass, moving lower towards his inner thighs before making their way back up again. The younger of the two rubbed soothing circles into the dimples that adorned Marco’s lower back, touching him in a manner that only he ever could. Marco and Ace’s bodies were equally covered, their tattoos well protected, creating a sweet building friction that only seemed to demand more from them. Marco began to pant a little, his cock stirring beneath him, trapped in between silk sheets and his own oiled stomach. The way one of Ace’s thumbs trailed along the crevice of his ass made his breath hitch, his hips rutting forward just so.

It wasn’t frequently that Marco liked to bottom, just as Ace loathed being on top most of the time, but something felt different in that moment, and they both knew it.

“Ace—”

“Marco—”

“ _ Fuck _ .”

Ace took his time in stretching the blonde open further, always so careful to plunge those digits of his nice and deep, prodding for his prostate with every curling of his fingers. Marco propped himself up onto his knees and forearms, urging the other man on. Ace always feared that he could never pleasure the blonde like Marco could him in this position, but that was far from true. There weren’t many people Marco would willingly let fuck him once, let alone twice, but Ace happened to be the exception to that. The way Ace used his body, the way he touched and caressed him, it left Marco aching,  _ burning  _ for more.

A type of starvation that made Marco hunger deeply for the other man. 

Ace gripped one side of Marco’s hips, the other hand guiding the tip of his cock towards the blonde’s waiting hole. Marco took a deep breath, and held it, willing his body to relax enough so that Ace could fill him whole. A low groan ripped its way from Marco’s throat as the other bottomed out, his back arching as Ace reared back, sliding forward with just the right amount of force behind it to make Marco  _ really  _ feel it. 

“Good boy, Ace,” he moaned, trying to grip the messy sheets beneath him. “Just like that,”

Marco kept control, even when otherwise relenting it. Because of his healing factor, his body wasn’t as sensitive as Ace’s own. Ace took this as his cue to thrust deeper, fuck harder, and the effort wasn’t lost on the blonde—not in the least. Ace’s fingers dug deeply into Marco’s hips, and the older man could only groan and curse as Ace worked him over, skin slapping against skin in a symphony of sin. Ace’s chest pressed against Marco’s back, his teeth digging into the blonde’s bared throat. 

“God, Marco!” Ace exclaimed, primal now in the way he fucked said blonde. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Show me how good I feel,” Marco dared, and never one to pass up on a challenge, Ace followed through, throwing his all into taking Marco like some sort of animal, fisting his cock all the while. 

Marco knew that Ace must have been close, knew that he, himself, felt so close to the edge that at any second he would go careening over it. One of Ace’s hands found Marco’s own, their fingers laced together as Marco came with a low cry. Ace followed soon after, collapsing on top of the blonde immediately. Eventually, they found the strength necessary to rearrange themselves, still far too drained to clean up afterwards just yet. The blonde couldn’t help but break out into quiet laughter, causing Ace to glance over at him with a questioning glare. It couldn’t be helped; however. 

Marco was simply in love.

“What?” Ace asked, unable to take it anymore. 

“I just don’t understand why you refuse to try topping more,” he said, stroking Ace’s hair just as he always did when they came down from their respective highs. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Ace said, his face flushed somewhat. “I just prefer you being the one in control. I always have...it’s like the first time every time, if that makes sense?”

“It does,” Marco said, his voice softer, much more serious. “I suppose I’m to blame for that...”

“Blame for what?”

“I could never give up control, especially when we first started to get more physical,” he admitted, unimpressed with his past self. “I didn’t let you lead or experiment even though I should have. It was all so new to you, you’ve never known anything other than this—than me, yoi.”

“If I remember correctly, it was me who conned my way into this relationship,” Ace said, playing with Marco’s fingers as he did when such topics came up. “I only knew one thing, and that was that I wanted you, and that I would do everything in my power to have you. All of you.”

“You didn’t necessarily have to work hard for it, yoi,” Marco said, tone light.

“Well, not for the sexual stuff, but it took a lot of effort for an actual relationship to form.”

“It’s hard to think seriously about things like that when you the first division commander, and the person you want more than anything is the second division commander,” he said, thinking back to all the late nights spent in his quarters attempting to work with the sound of Ace’s voice playing over and over again inside his head. “It felt like a curse at the time, yoi.”

“Turned out to be fate, huh?”

“Pops thought so,” he said, grinning as an image of the old man flashed across his mind, guzzling booze and inquiring as to why his number one brat was damn near groveling after confessing his not-so-secret secret relationship with Ace. “He’d be happy for us.”

“He _ is _ happy for us,” Ace said, his gaze far from any earthly plain. 

“She’s young, but I’m sure he’d take a liking to Roux, yoi,” he said. “She’s hotblooded and larger than life just like you and him.”

“Yeah, but Ambrosio’s the deep thinker,” Ace said with a sly grin. “Taking things apart just to put them back together again.” 

“We’ve got good kids, yoi.”

Ace harked a good laugh at that. “I don’t know about  _ good _ , but they’re amazing,” he said, kissing Marco on the cheek. “I can’t wait to see what they become.”

“Hey. Ace,” he said, rolling over top of the other man. “You want to be underneath me now?”

Ace’s eye became half-lidded, his cheeks flushed pink in color as he wrapped his arms around Marco’s neck, bringing him down for a lust filled, thorough kiss, wrapping his legs around the mid of the blonde’s waist. “Always,” he said. 

“I love you, yoi,” Marco said, suddenly fearful he hadn’t said it enough.

“I know,” Ace said, warm and inviting as they kissed again. “I love you, too. Always.”

“Always.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bottom!Marco doesn't get enough love, tbh.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here ;-; I had a lot of fun with this, and I'm sad it's over, but there will be one more chapter set further in the future when Ambrosio and Clementine come back to visit.

“Hey, mister Marco! Guess what?!”

Marco set his cup of coffee down on the kitchen table, crossing one leg over the other as he peered down at the enthused child vying for his attention. Marco and Ace adored her, and Clementine proved to be an excellent friend and ally where Ambrosio was concerned. Ambrosio could be somber some of the time, anxious and distant, but Clementine washed all of that away with a smile and a touch of mischief. 

“What, yoi?” he asked, eyebrow arched and a quirk to the corner of his lips. 

“I want to meet and live amongst the mermaids!” she exclaimed, taking a sip of chocolate milk that Ace bought just for her.

Marco smiled a bit wider at that. “You do, yoi? Well then, you’ll have to find your way to Fishman Island when you get older,” he said with a wave of his hand, watching the cogs turn in the six year olds mind. 

“Fishman Island?”

“That’s where most fishmen and merfolk live, yoi. It’s a kingdom under the sea,” he explained, watching as her face lit up, her tiny hands balling up into tiny fists as she practically vibrated in her chair. 

“An underwater kingdom?!”

“Yes, yoi. It’s quite beautiful,” he said.

“You’ve been there?!”

“Most pirates who come to the New World have, yoi,” he said, enjoying how thrilled the girl was. “You’re aunt and cousin, too.”

“I want to go there, mister Marco!”

“Let me find the book I have from my stay there,” he said, “It has all of their history, including that of the royal family.”

Marco found it in their bedroom under a stack of other books, not surprisingly. He checked in on both Ace and Roux as they played in her room, smiling as Ace helped the girl to stand on her own two feet, determined to get her walking all on her own. She could walk using the bed or the sofa to hold onto, but had yet to walk without assistance, but it was obvious that she wanted to. She wanted so desperately to keep up with her big brother and Clementine. Ace looked over his bare shoulder, sensing Marco right away.

Observation Haki.

“Hey, daddy,” he said, his voice low, soft. He must have been tired still, spending most of the night with Ambrosio who suffered from a nightmare that he refused to speak about. “What’s that?”

“A book on Fishman Island,” he said, approaching the other man who sat cross legged on the floor, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of Ace’s nose, but Ace wasn’t satisfied, pulling Marco down for a thorough kiss, nipping at the blonde’s bottom lip. “I lost my train of thought, yoi...”

Ace laughed at that, a playful glint in his eye. “Something about Fishman Island,” he said.

“Right,” he said, straightening up before Ace could capture him again. “Clementine wants to live amongst the mermaids when she’s older.”

“What a cute dream,” Ace said, his smile nearly taking Marco’s breath away. The natural lighting from the open window adding a certain softness to him. “I wonder what Ambrosio’s dream is...”

Marco paused at that. “He’s never really said, has he?” he asked, trying to think back, but drawing a blank. “He’s been exposed to so many things from Izo to Luffy to Sabo and the entire Straw Hat crew.”

“I wonder if it would be something similar to ours.”

“I wonder, yoi.”

“You should ask him.” Ace urged, lifting Roux onto his lap, playing with the girl’s unruly hair. She looked precious in a yellow and white ruffled dress with yellow and white polkadot leggings to match. Her bare feet kicking to and fro like always. 

“I think I will, yoi,” he said, turning around. 

“Hey,” Ace said, making him pause. “You should leave your shirt unbuttoned more often again.”

“Oh?”

“You look disheveled and sexy as hell,” he said, placing his hands over Roux’s delicate ears. “When the kids go to bed tonight, you’re all mine.”

“You better hope you tucker them all out then,” he said with a sly grin and a wink.

“Oh, I will,” he said with an equally as salacious smile. “You can bet your sweet ass on it.”

Marco held no doubts about that, chuckling to himself as he made his way back into the kitchen. He spotted Ambrosio and Clementine arm wrestling at the kitchen table, each one of them red in the face as they put their all into defeating the other. In the end, Ambrosio’s endurance outlasted that of Clementine’s. A first for him.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, triumphant though his left arm proved limp and tired. 

“You got lucky!” Clementine argued. “Besides, you know my left arm is weaker than my right, unlike you!”

Marco could only shake his head. Oh, to be young again. 

“I found that book for you, yoi,” he said, effectively distracting the duo from their endless squabbling. 

“Really?!” Clementine cheered, coveting the dark blue book with red and gold lettering on the cover in her hands, studying it with a keen eye as though it contained all the secrets in the universe. “Thank you so, so much! I want to read it right away!” 

“No problem, yoi.”

“You’re gonna go with me right, Ambrosio?!”

Ambrosio nodded his head, taking a large bite of french toast. “Yeah, I’ll go. You’ll need someone to keep you from doing something stupid,” he said with a snarky smirk, syrup on the corners of his mouth. 

“Hey!”

“Speaking of which,” Marco said, sitting back down to finish his own breakfast, “what’s your dream for when you get older, Brosio?” 

Ambrosio paused at that, setting his fork down as his brows furrowed. “I, um...well, I guess what I want most is to fly,” he said, staring down at his near empty plate all the while. 

Dear god, he looked and acted so much like Ace, but he sounded so much like Marco in moments like these. It made Marco do a double take. “To fly, yoi?” he asked, just to make sure he’d heard the boy correctly. 

“Yeah,” he said, brushing his bangs from out of his face. “I want to fly higher than anyone!” 

“Like the way I fly, or do you want to build something durable that will get you high up there and keep you steady?” he asked, genuinely curious as he watched his first born child intently. 

“You know I’m going to make it my mission to get your devil fruit after you pass so that no one else can!” he exclaimed, a look of pure determination crossing over his face, “but I want to be able to build something that’ll be able to navigate something as treacherous as the Grandline and the New World’s treacherous weather! I’ve got all the books that you and Nami-san gave to me on navigating, and all the shipbuilding ones that Franky-san gave to me, not to mention all your old maps from when you navigated from place to place in your pheonix form!”

“That’s amazing, Ambrosio!” Clemetine cheered, punching the other child in the arm as she felt inspired for him. “I’ll definitely follow you after you come with me far below the sea!”

“And what are you two going to be when you grow up?

“Oh, that’s easy!” Ambrosio exclaimed with a snort.

“Pirates!” Clementine said with a loud laugh that left Marco’s ears ringing. 

“Well, it does run in the family, I’m afraid,” Marco said, keeping his tone light though a thrum of anxiety threatened to rear its ugly head. Ace’s fate pecking at him. “You’ll have to grow big and strong and gather a loyal, rowdy crew to help you reach your dreams.”

He wanted to emphasize the loyal part of it all, but held his tongue on the matter. The two were far too young, far too innocent to learn of such unpleasant truths just yet, of such ugliness that existed in the world. He wanted to let their dreams thrive and expand without dampening them. 

Before the conversation could continue; however, a loud series of cheers and triumphant whoops could be heard coming from Roux’s bedroom, effectively drawing all of their attention in that direction. Ambrosio frowned, turning towards the sound as Clementine did the same. The two worked so well in tandem that Marco wondered who would end up leading whom. 

“Marco, Ambrosio, Clementine!” Ace exclaimed. “Come quick!”

The three of them did as told, filing into Roux's bedroom just in time to see the girl not only standing on her own two feet, but walking on her own as well. Ace appeared so overcome with emotion, his voice choked up each and every time he tried to speak, following the rambunctious one year old as she stomped around her bedroom, trying to gain traction. Marco crouched down, urging the girl to aim for his direction. 

“Come here, Roux,” he cooed, arms wide open. “Come to daddy.”

Her bottom two teeth glinted in her drooling smile, her giggle filling the room as she took one step after another, each one bringing her closer to Marco’s person. Eventually, she made it to him, and Marco couldn’t resist cradling her into his strong arms, squeezing her wiggling frame as he placed kiss after kiss to the top of her head and full face. His heart felt close to bursting.

For a day off, this was an excellent start. 

“I’m so proud of you, yoi,” he said, nuzzling her button-shaped nose with his own. “We’re all so proud of you.”

He set her down so that she could use her new profound talent to reach both Ambrosio and Clementine who couldn’t wait to cheer her own and play with her. In their minds, she could begin to hang out and keep up with them in a manner she never could before. They began to talk amongst themselves, taking Roux with them as they went.

“I’m so proud of her,” Ace said, lending Marco a hand which the blonde readily took.

Marco wrapped one arm around Ace’s waist, bringing the other man closer until their bodies connected from hip to hip and chest to chest. Ace looked up at him with a dazzling smile, effectively capturing Marco’s attention as well as his imagination. The two kissed, though neither one knew who initiated it, a feeling of oneness flowing through the connection that ran through them. 

“This is so great, Marco,” Ace said, kissing the blonde again in his excitement. “We need to take some pictures and video to mark the occasion!” 

  
  


“Do you remember the last place we put the cameko den den mushi?”

“The last time we used it was for Roux’s first birthday,” Marco said, acknowledging that they’d had to guess a birth date for their young daughter, never able to retrieve any other information on her. Ace decreed a month after their wedding anniversary would suffice. 

“It has to be in our room,” Ace said, heading out of Roux’s bedroom. “Don’t let Ambrosio and Clemetine wear her out before I find it!”

“Will do, yoi,” the blonde said, following closely after his husband, admiring Ace’s figure all the while. 

  
  


He found the children in the living room, the two oldest urging little Roux to walk short distances to where they stood near the coffee table. Marco took in the scene with a profound sense of enjoyment, immersing himself in such a scene instead of being merely a bystander witnessing such acts. He chuckled at such warm excitement, remembering Oden and Toki and their two young children when they traveled with them. 

“I found it!” Ace exclaimed, emerging from their bedroom with the den den mushi in hand, victorious. “Okay, guys, lets get some good footage of this momentous occasion, okay?”

Ambrosio and Clementine couldn’t help but to jump around in their enthusiasm, announcing to their audience that Roux had taken her first steps all by herself. Roux laughed and giggled, waving at Ace who held the camera aloft, cheering her on. A natural ham, Roux enjoyed the attention immensely, following Marco as he went to take a seat on the sofa. 

“Daddy’s girl, huh?” Ace said, laughing as Roux outstretched her arms, reaching for Marco who simply couldn’t refuse her.

“Da!” she cried, her cute, little freckled face flushing the harder she tried to reach up for him, barely coming to Marco’s shins.

“What’s the matter, little one?” he asked, picking up so that she sat in his lap, but that wasn’t enough for her, her tiny hands reaching for the blonde’s shoulders as he helped her to stand.

“What do you guys think about all of this?” Ace asked, pointing the den den mushi at the two youngsters who were laughing and teasing one another. 

Marco loved and enjoyed their friendship, and he knew that one day, the two of them would embark on a great adventure. He could see either one of them as captain, he wouldn’t be surprised if they were both co-captains, each one too enthralled with the other to take the title for themselves, neither one selfish or fame seeking. Ambrosio sought freedom above all else even if he didn’t outright state it. 

It was a trait Marco recognized in himself. Ace, too. 

“It’s awesome!” Clementine exclaimed, clapping her hands together. It was strange to see the window in her front teeth filled with her first two adult ones. Her and Ambrosio had a bottom tooth missing each at current, one complementing the other. 

“It means that she’s one step closer to keeping up with me,” Ambrosio said, a large grin plastered across his face as he took a seat beside Marco on the sofa, taking a wriggling Roux into his arms, bouncing her up and down whilst humming _ binks’ sake _ that he learned from Brook to her. Marco conceded that Ambrosio held a talent for singing, his voice soft and soothing, bright and shining.

Marco also admitted to being a _ very _proud father.

“Tell her how proud you all are and how much you love her!” Ace exclaimed, zooming in on the three of them while motioning for Clementine to take a seat as well, determined to include the girl into their little family. 

“Of course I’m proud, yoi,” Marco said, almost indignant as he pinched one of Roux’s rounded cheeks. “She’s my little girl, yoi, and she’s growing up more and more everyday.”

“She’s _ so _cute!” Clementine exclaimed, jumping up beside Ambrosio as they each took one of Roux’s tiny hands into each of their own. “I love her like a little sister!”

“She’s my little sister!” Ambrosio argued, noticing the way Clementine frowned, upset at his dismissal, “but I guess I can share, but only with you.”

Marco looked up and away from the pair to see that Ace had turned the den den mushi on him, studying him up and down, and blatantly at that. The blonde laughed, moving to his feet as he reached for the cameko, fighting the other man for it. Eventually, Ace handed it over with a kiss and a smile, recording it for good measure. 

“You can’t stay behind the camera the whole time, yoi,” Marco argued, zooming in on Ace’s gorgeous face as the younger of the two flushed. “Papa needs some attention, too.”

Marco loved that, loved calling Ace ‘Papa’ as much as Ace loved calling him ‘Daddy.’ It was pressing, teasing. It got underneath his skin; riled him up, how something so innocent could be so dirty in the right lighting. 

Ace aquasied, sitting on the floor as he took Roux from both Ambrosio and Clementine, setting the girl down onto the floor with him, watching as she moved around without a care in the world. The adoring smile that adorned Ace’s face made Marco nearly falter. He looked just...so happy, so content in that moment. A feeling that had eluded him for so long, and Marco could only feel how absolutely blessed they both were to have had a second chance.

They carried on in this manner for most of the afternoon, Ace decided that the children should all dress up and put on a show. Clementine took to the idea, and convinced Ambrosio to join in, explaining that the two would duel to the death, or so she claimed. Ace dressed Roux up as a fairytale princess with decadent jewelry and a midnight blue dress with a train to match.

A gift from Clover for Roux’s first birthday.

The two dueled over the princess’ hands, each declaring their undying love for her. Clementine was quite the actor, but Marco also knew her to say what she meant. She would fight hard to her last, dying breath. The black bandana she wore reminded him of Roronoa Zoro, the white and black striped shirt too big for her small frame, tailored by a brown belt and black slacks. She wore no shoes as she leapt from sofa to sofa, shouting at Ambrosio to give her his all.

Ambrosio, charged by her words, fought equally as hard, but he didn’t rush into things head first like Ace used to. Instead, he thought things through, assessing the situation quickly, predicting his opponents movements before they, themselves, made them. He fought like an older, much wiser Marco, and for that, the blonde was thankful, but Clementine was like a hurricane—unpredictable and destructive, building in strength as she went. He wore Ace’s old hat, a gift that he’d given to their son with tears in his eyes. “Please wear it with pride,” he said.

And Amborsio did. He loved it. He was his father’s son.

He looked so much like Ace, but those eyes, those eyes were his. Deep, soulful and morbid...There were parts of himself that he never wanted for Ambrosio. A certain darkness he’d worked hard to shed.

That Ace still worked hard to undo himself, but here and now, Ambrosio was a happy child in a happy home, making even happier memories. 

By dinner time, the three were well beyond worn out. Clementine could barely keep her head up as she shoveled fried rice into her mouth. Ambrosio’s eyes were half-lidded, and he yawned after every mouthful. Roux fell asleep face first into her own food, and Marco could only think of Ace as he wiped away the pieces of rice stuck to her chubby little face. His husband had promised to tire the three of them out, and he had most certainly delivered on that promise.

Marco could feel Ace’s gaze upon him as he picked Roux up, rubbing her back as she fell asleep in his arms. He spared Ace a quick glance, one that promised both risk as well as reward. Tonight, Marco wanted to take his time, to take Ace apart. 

Ace understood, a visible shiver coursing through his spine as he picked Clementine up, carrying her off to Ambrosio’s bedroom where a spare futon awaited her. Marco took great care and joy in changing Roux into a plain, short-sleeve onesie, tucking her in with a light yellow blanket. For some reason, she ran hot, often sweating in her sleep even through the colder months. He smoothed a thumb lovingly over her brow, turning on a blue nightlight before placing a soft kiss to her forehead. He loved her so much, it physically ached.

A little girl to call his own. A little girl who would grow up to love and need her daddy, but right now she needed her rest, and so he retired to his and Ace’s bedroom, excitement thrumming through his veins. He was pleased to see Ace already there, waiting for him—loving him.

_ Wanting _him.

Marco was going to destroy him, piece by piece, before putting him back together again.

“There you are, daddy,” he greeted, fingers on the button of his shorts, teasingly low, revealing that he wore nothing more than a black jockstrap underneath.

The sight made Marco’s predator-like senses intensify, both his vision and features sharpening. Ace’s boldness faltered somewhat under Marco’s gaze, but not his confidence. Marco pulled the smaller man forward, trapping him against his body, tilting his chin up so that he could secure Ace’s lips with his own. Of course, that didn’t stop Ace from removing Marco’s old purple dress shirt with quick, rough motions, moaning as Marco stripped him out of his shorts while attacking the side of his neck. Ace groaned, distracted by the attention, but not enough to resist shoving his hand down the front of Marco’s pants.

“_ Fuck_,” Ace choked, nearly tripping over the foot of their bed.

Marco took the opportunity to catch Ace before settling him down. “There we go,” he said, chasing the other down for a ravenous kiss.

“Want you,” Ace whimpered, back arching as Marco secured a pert nipple between blunt teeth, thighs spread to fit Marco’s form perfectly.

“Oh, I know.”

“Then do something.” 

“What would you have me do, Ace?” he asked, gaze almost serene as he peered down at the man underneath him. “Looking like this, you can have anything.”

“I already have _ everything_, Marco,” he said, cupping the blonde’s face tenderly as their lips met once more, slow but no less searing in its intensity. “I don’t care what we do, as long as we do it together.”

“Roll over for me,” Marco said, enjoying the view as Ace did as told. 

Marco hummed, gaze sweeping over Ace’s backside, the black straps accentuating an already perfect ass, his thighs shaking the further the blonde’s hands explored, taking in every inch of him. Ace’s hair had grown somewhat, tangled around Marco’s fingers near the nape of his neck. He trailed kiss after kiss down along Ace’s spine, his teeth skimming across the younger man’s bronzed flesh. Ace found it difficult to be placed under such intense scrutiny; Marco’s sole devotion dedicated to him and him alone. He worshiped the ground Ace walked on, no matter how much Ace protested.

“Mar—”

“You said I could have whatever I wanted, yoi,” he said, lips hovering over Ace’s lower back, just above the band of his underwear. “This is what I want.”

“Hurry.”

“Can’t rush perfection, yoi,” he argued, lips curled into a small smirk as a full body shiver wracked through Ace’s being. “Part your legs for me a little...”

“Why—” Ace’s questioned died out halfway when one of Marco’s hands cupped him in between his thighs, his thumb rubbing against the brunette's entrance. “_ Oh _.”

“I know you have to be suffering with these still on,” he said, pulling on one of the straps that stretched along Ace’s inner thigh, “but I’ll help with that, yoi.”  
  


Ace could only groan face first into the pillow beneath him, an advantage considering his inability to keep quiet hadn’t improved much or at all, leaving the pair to try and secure more alone time together. They’d improvised with Ambrosio thus far about any noises he might have overheard, each excuse more outlandish than the last, but it was only a matter of time. Ambrosio was a bright child, after all, and neither of them were prepared to have _ that _conversation just yet. 

It didn’t stop Marco from torturing the other man, however. 

“Arch your back for me, Ace,” he ordered, pulling the other man back when he didn’t react fast enough. “There we go.”

“Wait!” Ace exclaimed, pleaded, really, but it fell on deaf ears.

A rough cry sounded from deep within Ace’s chest as Marco’s tongue replaced his thumb. Ace could never control the sounds he made when Marco went down on him, but more so when the blonde took the time to eat him out. The cries he made were unparalleled, the way his spine looked contorted in ecstasy. Marco derived much more pleasure out of Ace’s reactions to him than the act itself, though both served to remind him just how achingly hard he was in that moment.

“_ Marco _!” Ace moaned, head tossed back, eyes cinched shut. “Marco, please!”

“Please, what?” the blonde asked, biting one of Ace’s rounded cheeks just to watch him buck underneath him. 

“Please just fuck me,” he said, voice raspy as he tried to keep the volume under control. “I can’t stay quiet like this.”

“You can’t stay quiet, period,” Marco argued, but he was near his limit as well, “and I don’t want you to.”

“Please,” he groaned, body tensing as Marco pulled back away from him, grabbing the bottle of lube Ace had tossed aside beforehand. 

“Very well, yoi,” Marco said, grinning to himself as he popped the top off, Ace’s body fully relaxed underneath him.

Ace could hardly tolerate being devoured that way for this very reason, his body thrumming with pleasure and close to coming all the way undone because of it. If Marco were feeling particularly cruel or less desperate himself he would have made the younger man come in his undies, but made a mental note to seek that out at a later time, perhaps right before he dropped Ambrosio off at school or right after, when Ace could do little more than to accept it. He spread a good amount along Ace’s ass, enjoying the shudder the action wrought, ready and willing to give Ace all that he needed. 

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t hurry up,” Ace bit, face flushed as he heaved for every breath.

The poor dear, he was severely turned on.

“I don’t think you will, yoi,” he said, giving Ace a sultry smile as he guided two of his fingers down towards the other man’s entrance. 

“Fuck—”

The curse spiraled into a low-pitched groan, his hips bucking as Marco eased both his fingers deep inside him all at once. Ace rutted forward before pressing back against the intrusion, moaning some variation of the blonde’s name. Marco focused all of his attention on not just stretching Ace, but hitting his prostate enough to keep him right on the precipice of coming.

“There we go, Ace,” he said, enjoying the way the younger man gripped tightly at the sheets beneath him, his walls clenching down tighter around him after Marco added a third and final finger. 

“Oh, god,” he cried, biting the pillow below him. “I can’t.”

“You can, yoi.”

“I can’t!”

Marco removed his fingers with a suddenness that left the brunette reeling, but he didn’t stop there. No, he stripped Ace out of his dirtied undergarments, tossing them aside without a second thought. The blonde slicked himself up, hissing at the sensation.

“Hands and knees,” he said, and Ace didn’t argue, getting into position as Marco lined himself up. “Deep breath, yoi.”

The tight heat that enveloped him was familiar, but no less welcoming. Ace’s body felt like coming home to him, and he could hardly control how rough and possessive his motions became from there on out. Ace met him thrust for thrust, his hips rolling back sinfully to meet Marco’s brutal pacing. 

“Fuck, fuck, _ fuck_,” Ace chanted, head hung low as Marco wore him down, forcing him further up the bed, his hands scrambling to hold himself up. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me like this, Ace,” he murmured, lips pressed against the side of Ace’s neck, one of his hands wrapped delicately around Ace’s throat, keeping him up and in position. 

“Ha—! Marco,” Ace groaned, biting his lip in a bid to keep as quiet as possible with limited success. “I’m-I’m gonna come—”

“Then go ahead, yoi.”

“_Don’t_ _wanna_,” Ace bit, gasping as Marco secured his other hand around the base of his cock. “Not yet.”

“I’m the one in control, yoi,” he said, taking immense pleasure in the way Ace clenched down around him as a result. “Not you.”

The hand along Marco’s outer thigh tightened its grip, and the blonde knew then that it was all over. Ace liked it whenever he took complete control of their encounters, leaving nothing to chance. Ace’s breathing grew more and more erratic, his body temperature clambering ever higher, and if he still contained his trademark flames, Marco held no doubt that they would have erupted across Ace’s skin, searing reds meeting tranquil blues.

In moments like this, Marco missed their dueling flames that called to each other just so, but it was such a small loss compared to all that they had gained and now shared. A bed, a home and a family. Where Ace’s scars took Marco a step back in time, it was nothing compared to their present now. Where there was once no future, no present, nothing but grief and immeasurable loss, life grew once more. Together, they blossomed and flourished. 

“_ Marco_!” Ace cried, head thrown back against the blonde’s shoulder as he came with a low shout. 

Marco could never last much longer after Ace unraveled, so enthralled with the other that he lost himself in it. Ace slumped back against him, panting for breath as Marco pressed his face forward into the side of Ace’s neck, settling his own breathing as they leaned against each other for support, precarious pillars holding the other up where they would otherwise fall. It had been far too long. 

“I don’t care how early we have to wake up,” Ace said, running his hand across Marco’s hip. “We need to fuck around more often. We’re too nervous.”

Marco sighed, but he couldn’t argue against the truth. “Agreed,” he said. “We’re worse than teenagers right now.”

“Worse than that,” Ace said with a laugh. “We’re parents.”

“Kids really do have a sixth sense when it comes to adults trying to secure some alone time,” he said, taking Ace’s hand into his own, sealing a kiss across scarred knuckles.

“I’ll tire them out every day, all day if I have to,” Ace swore, and Marco couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I believe you, yoi,” he said, regaining enough strength to finally move. “Let’s go take a shower while we still can.”

“Carry me,” Ace said with a low whine.

“Carry you, yoi?”

“You nearly blew my back out.”

“Ace...”

“My hips are all bruised.”

“Fine, yoi.” 

“Really? You’ll carry me?”

“I’ll carry you, and then I’ll ruin you all over again.”

Ace fell back fully against Marco’s chest, nuzzling him. “I think I can handle that,” he said. 

The two fell asleep much later than either had intended to, but Marco couldn’t find it within himself to regret it. He awoke to Ace’s arm slung over the mid of his waist, his chest pressed up tight against Marco’s naked back, and he wished for nothing more than to remain in bed for the rest of the day, but he knew he needed to get up. Ace groaned as Marco rolled out of bed, reaching blindly for him. 

“Come back to bed,” Ace demanded, his hair a mess as Marco leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his cheek before capturing his lips. 

“Can’t, yoi,” he said. “I’ve got to get the kids up and out the door before I head over to Luna’s.”

“I’ll take care of the kids,” he said even as his eyes fluttered shut again. 

Marco chuckled. 

“I’ve got it, yoi,” he reassured, kissing Ace gently on the mouth. “Get some more sleep before Roux decides she wants to cause chaos again.”

“Our baby can walk,” Ace said, a tiny smile to his lips as he pulled Marco’s pillow against his chest, snuggling up to it. 

“I know, yoi,” he said, whispering as he tucked a stray strand of Ace’s hair behind his ear. “They grow up so fast.”

  
  
  
  


Marco sighed, setting the bottle of rum down on top of Whitebeard’s headstone, pouring a small amount into a glass for himself as well. The last few rays of sunlight were brightest from this spot, and Marco silently, begrudgingly thanked Shanks for his foresight on the matter. A scenic last resting place if there ever was one.

“I’m alive again, old timer,” he said, downing his drink in one go. His father figure deserved to know that much at least. “_ Cheers_.”

Where Marco hated to return home before, he looked forward to it now with each new passing day. It’s where Ace was, and where he would always be moving forward. It was where their children were, and where they would continue to raise them for however long they could. Marco looked at the bouquet in his hand, happy to take them with him instead of leaving them atop of an empty grave. He turned to head back, not wanting to keep his family waiting, and the thought alone brought a thankful smile to his face that, for the first time in a long time, reached his eyes as well. 


End file.
